The Lies We Tell Ourselves
by Emador
Summary: Picking up where "The Lies that Bind" left off, this is Amelia's story. Between suitors, engagements, and the life of high society, Amelia still manages to get sidetracked by a certain Brooklyn newsie. Will she trade her life of leisure to be with him? [Repost; originally posted 2014]
1. Chapter 1

_October 1899_

"You're gonna be okay here," Baby nodded, looking around the room.

"And we'll come visit you, we promise," said Penny.

"Thank you, girls," said Maggie, giving them a hug. "Thank you so much. And please, please don't tell the boys."

"We promise," said Penny, miming buttoning her lips.

"We won't say a word," said Baby.

Maggie looked over at Amelia, who was sitting on the bed, buffing her nails on her skirt.

"Amelia?" said Maggie.

"Yeah, yeah, I won't say a word, who am I gonna tell?" she rolled her eyes.

"You think you could be a little more supportive? This isn't easy for Maggie," said Penny.

"She has us, she has a place to stay, and she's avoiding the embarrassment of confronting the boys," said Amelia. "What more do you want?"

Penny rolled her eyes and sighed. "Take care of yourself," said Penny, giving Maggie a hug. "We'll come see you next week."

"Thank you," said Maggie. Baby stepped forward and gave her a hug.

"Bye," said Baby, as she and Penny walked out.

Maggie sat down on the bed next to Amelia. "You ever need anything, you tell me, okay?" Maggie nodded. "And don't you worry about anything after the baby is born – I plan on spoiling that little kid rotten." She gave Maggie a hug. "Take care, sweetie."

Amelia stood up and walked out of Maggie's room. She walked through the hallway, the rooms filled with new or expecting mothers with nowhere else to go. She walked out of the house to where Baby and Penny were waiting.

The three girls began walking down the street.

"How come she's not staying with you?" Baby asked.

"It wasn't for my lack of offering," said Amelia. "She didn't want to for more than a couple nights. She said she wanted a place where she could make it on her own for once in her life – her words, not mine."

"I wish she didn't decide to disappear," said Penny. "Despite how mad he is, Skittery would've understood. Knowing him, he would've helped her and raised that kid."

"Only after some heavy convincing, I think," said Baby. "Skitts is very trusting, and once you break that trust, you're done. He would've needed to wait until the baby was born to be convinced it wasn't a con."

Penny and Amelia nodded. Baby looked over at Penny. "You gonna be okay? What are you gonna tell Specs?" she asked.

Penny shrugged. "I'm not going to tell him anything," she said. "I'm not even going to tell him that I know where she is."

"Probably for the best," said Baby. "If he knew, and he knew you were keeping that from his best friend…"

"Are you going to tell Jack?" Amelia asked Baby.

Baby shook her head. "Good idea," said Amelia. "It wouldn't be fair to let it drive a wedge between you two and your boys."

"What about you and your boy?" asked Penny, smirking.

"Rock?" asked Amelia.

Baby rolled her eyes. "No, Spot."

"Spot is not my…Spot is…no…he's not…we're not…no!" said Amelia, laughing at the end.

"Really?" Penny chimed. "He broke a guy's hands to get you your best friend back."

"He didn't do that for me," said Amelia. "He did it because…it was the right thing to do. You know, to help Skittery."

"Oh please," said Baby. "With the way you two are always going at one another…there's tension there. And not the bad kind!" She winked.

Amelia rolled her eyes as they got on a trolley that headed straight downtown. They passed right through Amelia's neighborhood.

"You're not going home?" asked Penny.

Amelia shook her head. "I want to check on Skittery," she said.

The girls go off at a stop in front of Tibby's and walked to the lodging house. A few of the boys were all hanging around. Amelia saw Skittery sitting in the corner, clutching Maggie's note in her hand.

When Skittery saw the girls, he stood up and walked over angrily.

"What is this?" he asked, holding the note up. "What's going on?"

"She's gone," said Amelia. "She knows you want nothing to do with her, and for her, it would just be easier…for everyone…if she left."

"Do you know where she is?"

Amelia meant to shake her head, but she paused too long.

Skittery walked over. "Tell me."

"I can't," said Amelia.

Skittery sighed. "Fine," he said, turning around. He walked toward the door. He walked halfway before turning around and looking back at her. "But I deserve better than this." He held up the note. "No matter what she was lying about, or how angry I was, I deserve more than a lousy note."

"I know you do," said Amelia, nodding.

A small expression of surprise passed over Skittery's face at his hearing her agree with him. He just nodded and walked out the door.

Amelia sighed. "I should've told her to come clean a long time ago," she said.

"You knew?" Specs asked. Amelia nodded. "You've done some things in your time," said Specs. "But this is one of the lowest."


	2. Chapter 2

_November 1899_

The snow fell heavily as Amelia trudged through the snow from the trolley stop to the front door of Tibby's. The newsies were sitting around, trying to stay warm until the afternoon edition came out.

"It is freezing out there!" said Amelia. "Winter has come early."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're freezing under that fur of yours," said Specs.

Amelia rolled her eyes and walked toward the back of the restaurant where Frank Tibby, the owner, was standing.

"Hi Frank," she smiled.

"Hello, Miss Amelia," he said. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I was wondering if you'd do me a favor," she said. "Thanksgiving is coming in a couple weeks, and I was wondering if you could do something for the newsies." She pulled out her purse and handed him some bills. "I understand you might want to spend Thanksgiving with your family, so feel free to do it on Wednesday or Friday of that week."

"Miss Amelia, you are too kind," he said.

"Nah," said Amelia, waving her hand, and walked over to where Specs was sitting.

"Where's Penny?" she asked.

"She works in a factory, remember?" asked Specs.

"Oh, right. How come she's not a newsie with you?"

Specs shook his head. "She refuses," he said. "We tried it once, and…" He shook his head again.

"What?" asked Amelia.

"Long story," said Specs.

Amelia shrugged, letting it go. The bell rang over the door as Spot sauntered in. He smirked when he saw her and walked over.

"You just can't get enough of us, can you?" Spot smirked, sitting down across from Amelia.

"Shouldn't you be off kissin' your bridge?" Amelia rolled her eyes.

"Don't be jealous, I could kiss you too," said Spot.

"Dream on, Brooklyn," said Amelia.

"Amelia?" said a voice from the door. Rock was standing there, looking very out of place, and a little confused.

"Rock," said Amelia, surprised. "What-what are you doing here?"

"I was just passing by, and saw you through the window," he said, walking in. He put on a charming smile. "Mind if I join?"

"Um…" Amelia said. Spot could see a visible change in her posture, demeanor, and voice. "Of course." Rock sat down next to Amelia. "Darling, you remember my brother Henry," she gestured Specs, "This is Baby and Jack, and this…" Amelia inwardly winced, "is Spot Conlon."

"Pleasure," Rock nodded at each of them. "Brian Rockefeller."

"Yeah, we've heard all about you," Spot smirked.

Amelia gave him a look. "Have you?" Rock beamed.

"Well, of course!" Amelia giggled. "You're only the most handsome and charming man in the five boroughs."

"Well," said Rock, feigning humility.

"Eh, maybe four outta the five," Spot winked at Amelia. She glared at him when Rock wasn't looking.

"Well, I must be off to attend to some business," said Rock, standing up. He turned to Amelia. "May I talk you on a walk tomorrow? There is something I would like to talk to you about."

"Absolutely," Amelia smiled, offering her hand. Rock took it and kissed her knuckles, giving her a wink. "Goodbye, darling!" Rock walked out of the restaurant.

Amelia put her elbows on the table and her face in her hands, exhaling loudly. "I can't believe he saw me in here…"

"What was that?" Baby asked, still shocked. " _Who_ was that?"

"Rock," answered Amelia, as if the fact should be obvious.

"Not him, you," said Baby. "Who were _you_ just now?"

"I was," Amelia made a breathy, sophisticated voice, "Amelia Wakefield."

"But why?" asked Baby.

Amelia shrugged. "It's what they expect," she said. "It's who they want." She stood up. "I need to get home."

"You just got here," said Jack. "You didn't even eat anything."

"I wasn't planning on it," Amelia said. "I just had some…business to take care of with Frank."

"Business?" Specs laughed. "You don't do business. You know nothing about business."

Amelia turned to Baby. "Still surprised I don't want to stay?"

Baby chuckled.

"I gotta get back to Brooklyn," said Spot, standing up. "I'll walk with you halfway."

Amelia gave him a look. "Why?"

"Oh, don't kid yourself," said Spot. "You love my company."

"Yeah, you and the 37 fleas you carry around with you everywhere," Amelia rolled her eyes, walking out.

She walked down the street, Spot eventually falling into step next to her.

"So that's your millionaire?" Spot asked.

"Yes," said Amelia. "And I didn't appreciate all your comments."

Spot shrugged. "It's what I do," said Spot. "It's who I am." They walked a few more steps. "Unlike you, who…well, who knows who you really are?"

"You know who I am," she rolled her eyes.

"Do I?" Spot asked. "Rock thinks he knows you too. I bet if you were having this conversation with him, your responses would be the same."

"Look," said Amelia. "You're a newsie. You understand the need to improve the truth sometimes."

"Sure," said Spot. "Although giving up a penny for a pape that's current for a couple hours is different than lyin' to a man you're tryin' to marry."

"Are you done?" Amelia asked.

"Oh, I'm never done," Spot smirked.

"Look," said Amelia, stopping and facing him. "You sell papers. You do that to survive in your world. Maggie conned – she did that to survive in her world. My job is to get married. That's what I need to do to survive in my world."

Spot nodded. "Okay," he said. "So all three of us improve the truth a little to get what we want. I get it."

They started walking once more. Amelia took a step, not noticing the patch of ice in front of her. Her foot slid out from underneath her, and she felt herself begin to fall. Before she'd slid too far, she felt two arms around her, and she instinctively reached out. She looked up into Spot's smirking face. She was impressed at his quick reaction. She was also surprised how tight and secure his arms were around her. The last time she'd been that close to those blue eyes, she'd first met him.

"Careful." He winked.

"Thank you." Amelia stood up straight, but neither of them let go. She finally let her arms fall. "You can let go of me now."

"You sure?" Spot asked, keeping one arm around her waist.

"Yes," said Amelia, taking a careful step.

They carefully crossed the ice patch together, and then she pushed his arm away.

Finally, they reached the corner where they were to go their separate ways. Spot turned to her.

"Be careful, Wakefield. What you are doing and what Maggie did are very similar. You're not manipulating headlines; you're manipulating people to get what you want. Look where it got her."

Spot adjusted his hat and turned toward the Brooklyn Bridge, leaving Amelia standing on the sidewalk, slack-jawed.


	3. Chapter 3

_November 1899_

Amelia held onto the bedpost as her mother laced up her new corset from the back. She gasped in pain as her mother kept tightening it.

"Mama, this is too tight," she said.

"It's a tight as it needs to be to fit into the dress Brian sent over," said her mother, tightening more.

"He sent over a dress?" Amelia asked.

"Yes," said her mother. "He said he wanted you to look special. You know what that means, right?"

"He's proposing," Amelia realized. Her mother nodded, pulling tight once more before tying off the laces. "Mama, I can't go all day in this."

"You'll be fine, sweetie," said her mother. "You're lucky. In my day, all the girls had waists less than or equal to the number of their age by the time they were married. Things are a little more relaxed these days."

"Are you saying I should have a 17-inch waist?" Amelia asked incredulously. "I can barely squeeze into this 21-inch thing."

* * *

The sun was high in the blue, cloudless sky. Amelia strolled down the street, on Rock's arm.

"A beautiful day, isn't it?" Rock observed. "A sunny day, shining on snow always makes for a beautiful stroll."

"Yes, yes it is," Amelia smiled, trying to concentrate on breathing.

"Amelia," Rock said, stopping and turning to face her.

"Yes?"

Rock cleared his throat. "I have been coming to see you for several months now," he started. "And I love you. I hope you know that by now. And I think you love me." Amelia smiled and nodded. "And it would be my great honor, if you would agree to be my wife." She pulled out a black velvet box from his jacket pocket and opened it, presenting her with a beautiful ring.

"Oh, Rock," she breathed, putting her hand to her heart. "It's beautiful. Yes, yes, of course yes!" She threw her arms around him. When she pulled back, he put the ring on her finger. "Oh, I love it." She smiled.

"I'm glad," he said. "Look how it glints in the sun."

"This thing could blind someone," Amelia giggled.

Rock smiled and took her hand, looping it through his arm and strolling down the riverbank.

As they continued walking, Amelia saw Spot leading a small entourage of newsies, sauntering in their direction.

"What is he doing here?" Amelia muttered.

"Oh dear," said Rock. "These boys look like trouble. Don't fear, Amelia. Come, we can cross the street."

"Oh, they're harmless," said Amelia. "Just a group of newsies."

"Well if it ain't Miss Amelia, Queen of the Upper East Side," Spot grinned.

Amelia had to bite her tongue. _Well, if it ain't Spot Conlon, King of Nothing,_ she wanted to say. Or _What's this? The King of Brooklyn can't go anywhere by himself anymore?_ Between the corset and having to hold in her insults to Spot, Amelia was sure she was going to puncture a lung.

"Excuse me?" said Rock, taken aback.

"Heya," said Spot, spitting in his hand and holding out to Rock. "Spot Conlon. We met yesterday."

"Oh, yes," said Rock, giving Spot's hand a disdainful look, not wanting to shake it.

"You're the Rockefeller," said Spot. "Amelia's boyfriend."

"Actually, her fiancé," Rock said, grinning.

"Fiancé," said Spot. His smirk faltered for a split second. "Well, congratulations."

* * *

Spot was at Tibby's, eating lunch with the Manhattan newsies and the handful of Brooklyn newsies that had come over with him. The bell over the door rang, and a couple of his newsies leered and smirked at whoever had walked in. There were a couple of whistles. Spot turned around and saw Amelia walk in, giving the Brooklyn newsies a look of disgust.

"Sorry boys, I'm out of your league," she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, she's marryin' a Rockefeller," Spot smirked, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

Amelia smiled sweetly. "Aw, I thought I smelled something rotten as I was walking in," she said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth, taking a puff, and walking over to where Penny and Baby were sitting.

"Bet that felt good to say," said Spot. "It looked painful having to hold it in around Rock."

"Is that true?" Penny asked as soon as Amelia sat down. "Are you getting married?"

Amelia smiled and held up her left hand. "To a Rockefeller," she said.

"Yeah, you may have mentioned that once or twice," Baby rolled her eyes, but smiled.

"Wow," said Blondie, looking at Amelia's dress. "You shrunk."

"New corset," said Amelia. "I'm down to 21 inches."

"Doesn't that hurt?" Penny asked.

"It's agonizing," she said. "But, Rock sent over a dress for me, with a 21-inch waistline."

"He dresses you?" Baby raised an eyebrow.

Amelia shrugged. "A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do to get her man." She fanned herself. "Is it just me, or is it hot in here?"

"Feels nice to me," said Baby, shrugging. "Especially after walking around in the snow all day."

"Hungry?" Lily offered her a plate of the fries they were sharing.

Amelia gave her a look. "Does it look like anything else could fit in here?" she gestured to herself. She sighed, resting her elbow on the table, resting her forehead on the tips of her fingers. "I thought you girls worked."

"It's Sunday," said Lily. "Penny and I get Sundays off."

"You're engaged," said Penny. "We thought you'd be excited."

"I am," said Amelia, looking down at her ring. "It's what my whole life has been about – finding a good husband. Now I'll really move up in the world – live in his mansion on Long Island, attend benefits and balls, and spend the rest of my life raising little Rockefellers."

"Then why aren't you prancing and flitting around like usual?" asked Baby.

Amelia shrugged. "Well, soon I won't see you guys anymore." She stared at her ring sadly once more. She shook her head, snapping herself out of her pity party. She plastered a smile on her face, donning her Newly Engaged persona. "I better go tell Mama and Papa the good news." She stood up but, caught by a dizzy spell, had to sit down again.

"You okay?" asked Baby.

"Yes, yes," said Amelia. "I think I just stood up too fast." She sat for a moment and stood up once more, slowly. She began to walk toward the door. She put her fingers to her forehead, trying to catch her breath.

"You okay, Wakefield?" Spot asked as she passed him.

"I'm fine!" said Amelia, starting to walk away. Spot noticed her wobbling.

"You sure you're—" he started, but he saw her start to fall. He rushed and caught her before she hit the ground. "Amelia?" He shook her a bit. She wasn't responding. "Amelia?"

Baby, Lily, and Penny rushed over.

"It's probably the new corset," said Penny. "Come on, our lodging house isn't far away."

Spot carried Amelia to the lodging house, led by the girls.

"Get her upstairs," said Baby. Spot carried Amelia up the stairs and laid her down on an empty bunk.

"What do we do?" asked Spot. "You think she'll just wake up?"

"No," said Lily. "We gotta get the corset off her. It's squeezing her too tight. Turn her over." Spot turned Amelia over as the girls began unbuttoning the back of her dress.

After a moment, Baby looked up at Spot. "You realize if she wakes up and sees you standing there while we undress her, you're a dead man, right?"

"Oh…right," Spot nodded, turning and walking downstairs. He thought about walking back to the restaurant, but something kept him there. When he knew Amelia was awake and okay, he'd head back.

* * *

Before she even opened her eyes, Amelia noticed one thing – she could breathe. She could expand her chest and stomach, letting in sweet, sweet air. She opened her eyes and saw the underside of a bunk above her head.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"You're in our lodging house," said Lily, sitting on the bunk next to her.

"What happened?" asked Amelia.

"You fainted on your way out the door," she said. "Spot carried you back here. Baby and I managed to get your dress and corset off so you could breathe again. Baby had to go sell the evening edition, and Penny left."

"Oh," said Amelia, sitting up. She was in nothing but her camisole and underdrawers. "What time is it? I need to get home."

"It's about five o'clock," said Lily. "I've got a spare skirt and blouse, you can wear home. We're about the same size. Well, when you're not wearing a corset."

Amelia smiled gratefully. She stood up and walked to the bathroom. "I never realized how fainting can do a number on your hair," she said, pulling the pins out, letting it fall past her shoulders. She pulled it off to one side, braided it, and let it rest over her shoulder.

Lily brought Amelia a skirt and blouse, and so she got dressed.

"Thanks, Lily," said Amelia, gathering her corset and dress, folding them into a bundle. "I appreciate it."

Lily grinned. "Anytime," she said. "But be careful with that thing." She gestured toward the corset.

"I'm going to go home," said Amelia. "See you later?"

Lily nodded.

Amelia turned and walked down the stairs of the lodging house.

"You're lookin' better," said Spot, standing up. "You look like a newsgirl."

Amelia frowned. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"That's not a very hospitable thing to say to someone who caught you so you wouldn't get your pretty new dress dirty," Spot shot back, smirking. "You know, I've never made a woman faint before. Though I can see why you would in the presence of such greatness."

"I'm sure you've made plenty of women faint," said Amelia. "Especially during the months you don't shower."

"Always a charmer, Wakefield," he said.

"Shouldn't you be out selling?" she asked.

Spot shrugged. "Had to make sure you were okay," he mumbled.


	4. Chapter 4

_November 1899_

"Ready?" Rock smiled at Amelia, holding her coat out for her.

"Yes," Amelia smiled, slipping it on, pulling her hair out of the collar. Rock offered her his arm and they walked out of her house.

"I'm so excited for you to meet my folks," he said. "They're looking forward to meeting you."

"Oh, I can't wait either," Amelia smiled. "I know Mama and Papa are looking forward to meeting them too."

A carriage was waiting outside. Amelia poked her head back into the house. "Mama! Papa! We're ready!"

Amelia's mother and father walked down the stairs, dressed to the nines.

"How wonderful! An evening with the Rockefellers!" her father exclaimed.

They all walked out and got into the carriage. The driver cracked his whip and they rode off. The carriage rode on. And on. And on. And on.

Amelia shared glances with her parents. They assumed the Rockefellers lived around the Upper East Side, certainly not very far off. Amelia peered out the window of the carriage.

"Is that…the Brooklyn Bridge?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Rock, glancing out.

"Why are we going to Brooklyn?" asked Amelia.

"To my parents house," said Rock, chuckling, as if it should have been obvious. He looked out the window once more.

Amelia sent a look of panic to her father. "Brooklyn?" she mouthed. He shrugged.

"Please don't be shocked," said Rock. "We're only going to our house in Park Slope. Our house on Long Island is being remodeled."

"Of course, darling," Amelia smiled, trying to hide the relief she felt.

"Park Slope," said her father. "A nice neighborhood."

"Once heralded as the richest community in the country," said Rock. "Of course, you Upper East Siders are giving us a run for our money now."

Rock and Mr. Wakefield shared a chuckle.

* * *

Soon, the carriage pulled up to a respectable looking brownstone. Father and Rock got out of the carriage and helped the women out.

They all walked inside where a man opened the door and took their coats. They were escorted into a small, but lavishly decorated dining room. Drinks were poured and introductions were made between the Rockefellers and the Wakefields.

After some small talk, they all sat down. A small group of servants entered the room to serve dinner. Amelia looked up and saw a familiar face. She couldn't remember his name, but she knew she'd seen that face before with the newsies, hanging around Tibby's. He caught her gaze, and his eyes widened slightly when he saw her. He set her dinner in front of her, and then promptly left with the rest of the men who'd filed in.

"So, I hear we're to share grandchildren some day," Mrs. Rockefeller said to Mrs. Wakefield.

"I hear the same," Mrs. Wakefield smiled.

 _What is his name?_ thought Amelia. _It was an odd name, not one that…oh, what am I saying, all of their names are odd. But at least they're descriptive. What is that boy's name?_

"We're in similar industries, Rockefeller," said Mr. Wakefield. "And I was thinking we could help each other out. Do some mutual business that will let us both grow."

"I like the way you think, Wakefield," said Mr. Rockefeller.

 _S…It starts with an S…or has an S in it. It's not Snitch, and Snipeshooter is the young one…oh, if only he came back, maybe if I saw his face again, it would come to me._

Amelia pushed her food around, deep in thought. The conversation buzzed around her as she tried to think of the newsie's name.

 _And what is he doing here anyway? He's a newsie, not a servant. Unless he got a second job…good for him. But why in Brooklyn? I wonder if the others know about it…WHAT IS HIS NAME?_

"Oh, we find the Carnegies to be a little too snooty," said Mrs. Rockefeller.

 _Snooty…Snoddy! That's his name!_

Amelia had hardly eaten four bites before dinner was over, and the servants came back to retrieve the plates. Amelia caught Snoddy's eye and gave him a meaningful look.

"Excuse me, where is your powder room?" Amelia asked Mrs. Rockefeller.

"Through that door, and down the hall on the left," Mrs. Rockefeller smiled.

"Thank you," said Amelia, standing up. She walked through the door to find Snoddy standing on the other side. She grabbed his arm and dragged him down the hall.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"I work here on weekends, when they have dinner guests," he whispered back. "A lot of us older newsies have second jobs. But what are you doing here? I thought you were engaged to some big wig rich guy."

"Yeah," said Amelia. "A Rockefeller. I'm engaged to Brian Rockefeller."

"Oh, Amelia," said Snoddy. "These…these people aren't the Rockefellers."

"What?" asked Amelia.

"I mean, yes, their last name is Rockefeller, but they're not _Rockefellers_. They're not related to _the_ Rockefellers," he said.

"Oh," said Amelia, her gaze wandering around the room. "Oh no…" She looked back at Snoddy. "Are they…I mean, they're still wealthy, right?"

"Oh yeah," said Snoddy, nodding. "I mean, they live here. But have they talked about their house on Long Island?" Amelia nodded. Snoddy shook his head. "There is no house on Long Island. They're plenty rich, but nowhere near as rich as your family. Most of the money comes from Mrs. Rockefeller's family. Mr. Rockefeller's businesses are not much more than a couple of stores scattered around the city."

"How do you know all this?" asked Amelia.

"You'd be amazed what they will say when they think you can't hear," said Snoddy.

Amelia sighed. "Thanks, Snoddy," she said. "I need to get back out there."

Amelia walked back to the dining room and rejoined the dinner party.

She managed to smile and be charming through the rest of the evening. At the end of the night, the Rockefellers bid the Wakefields and good night, and the three of them got into a carriage to take them home.

"Mama, Papa," said Amelia. "I found something out tonight at dinner."

"What is it, dear?" asked Mrs. Wakefield. Amelia told them all she had learned, omitting out her source of information.

"So he's _a_ Rockefeller," said her mother. "But not one of _the_ Rockefellers."

Amelia nodded.

"Oh, sweetie," said her father, putting her arm around her.

Amelia looked at her father. "Isn't there anything you can do?"

Her father shrugged. "I will try," he said. "But plans are already being made. What are we going to say? You can't marry him because they're poor?"

Amelia sighed.

"Well, they're not poor," said her mother. "I know what poor is. Anyone living in Park Slope is _not_ poor."


	5. Chapter 5

The next day Amelia took a long walk and ended up downtown, walking along the river. The snow was coming down softly, sticking to the ground. She pulled her coat tighter around her, trying to block out the chilly wind. She came upon the Brooklyn Bridge and looked over to the next borough.

"Imaginin' what it would be like to be the Queen of Brooklyn?" said a voice next to her.

Amelia glanced over and saw Spot. "Not now, Conlon, I'm not in the mood," she said.

"Then why are you looking dreamily at my borough?" he asked.

"I'm not looking dreamily at it, I'm looking regretfully at it."

"Why?" asked Spot, leaning on the railing.

Amelia sighed. "Rock isn't exactly who he said he is. Or, who we thought he said he is."

"What do you mean?"

"He's…" Amelia started, but wasn't sure how to put it. "Well, his last name is Rockefeller. But he's not one of _the_ Rockefellers. He's a Brooklyn Rockefeller."

"See, Brooklyn has some class," Spot smirked. "So you're bummed because he's not rich?" Spot raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, he's rich alright," she said. "Just not…Rockefeller rich." Amelia sighed. "Papa was so excited to be related to the Rockefellers."

"What about you?"

"It would've been nice," she said.

"Well, if you love the guy, it shouldn't matter, right?" Spot asked. Amelia shrugged. "Do you love the guy?" Amelia shrugged again. "Do you want to marry rich?" Amelia shrugged again. "Wakefield, what _do_ you want?"

"What any other girl wants," she said. "To fall in love, get married…preferably to a rich guy."

"So if you don't love the guy, why don't you just not marry to him?"

Amelia rolled her eyes. "We thought he was a _Rockefeller_ ," she said. "You don't say no to that."

"So are you still gonna marry him?" Spot asked.

"Of course," said Amelia. Spot looked at her until she finally looked over at him. "What?"

"I just don't get you, Wakefield." He shook his head.

* * *

Amelia got off the trolley at in Harlem and walked the three blocks to the house Maggie was staying at.

"Knock knock," said Amelia, standing in the doorway to Maggie's room.

"Hey!" Maggie grinned, standing up.

"Look at you!" Amelia grinned, walking in. "You're growing!"

"Yeah," Maggie said, putting her hand on her baby bump. "So what brings you up here?"

Amelia sat down on Maggie's bed. "Rock…isn't a Rockefeller…well, not one of _the_ Rockefellers. We just assumed he was." Amelia paused. "Am I a terrible person for not wanting to marry him now?"

"Did you ever want to?" asked Maggie.

"When I thought he owned half the city, yeah," said Amelia.

"Did you ever love him?" Maggie asked.

Amelia looked down at her hands. "I don't know," she said.

"I think if you really loved _him_ , then it wouldn't matter how much money he had," said Maggie.

"I guess," said Amelia. She shook her head. "But enough about me. How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," said Maggie. "I feel good. I found a shop that lets me bring mending back here, so I can earn a little bit of money."

"That's great," Amelia smiled. "But you know you don't have to. I gave you money."

"I'm not touching it," said Maggie. "I want to make my own way. Honestly for once. But since I know you won't take your money back, I'm keeping it as an emergency fund."

"I'm proud of you, Maggie," said Amelia. "So when are you due to have the baby?"

"March," said Maggie.

"I'm really glad you decided not to…you know…"

Maggie nodded. "Me too." She looked down at her baby bump. "I just with the circumstances were different, you know? I wish I hadn't lied to Skittery. I wish he were here with me…"

"You can still have that." Amelia took her hand. "All you have to do it take a trolley downtown. You know the girls and I will do what we can to help Skittery understand."

Maggie shook her head. "He doesn't want me."


	6. Chapter 6

_December 1899_

Rock had picked Amelia up one afternoon strolled along the pathways near the East River after lunch.

"Mama has booked the church for June," said Amelia.

"That's wonderful," said Rock. "Only six months away." He winked.

"That way, all the trees will be in full bloom, the snow will be melted," said Amelia.

Rock turned toward the bridge and they began strolling along the Brooklyn Bridge.

"My bridge," Rock smiled, a hint of pride in his voice.

 _No, this is Spot Conlon's bridge,_ Amelia thought before she realized it. _Whoa…where did that come from?_

Rock stopped in front of a building.

"I love you, Amelia," he said. "You know that, right?"

"Of course," Amelia smiled.

He took her hands in his. "And I want to show you how much I love you," he said. He began to lead her into the hotel.

"Rock, what are you doing?" she asked, pulling back.

"Just come with me," he said.

"No, we can't," said Amelia. "We're not…" she lowered her voice, "we're not married."

"Sweetheart, we're engaged," he said. "That's as good as being married."

"Can't we just wait until after the wedding?" she pulled away from him.

"Amelia," he growled, grabbing her arm. For a split second, she saw something in his eyes she'd never seen before – and she didn't want to again. He turned his voice to honey again. "I love you…I just want to be with you…"

Not wanting to provoke him again, Amelia bit her lip and nodded. Rock led her into the hotel.

Neither one of them saw the newsie who'd been selling his papers on the opposite corner, watching the whole exchange.

* * *

The snow began to fall outside as Amelia looked through the window. The hotel room was tastefully decorated. Rock walked up behind Amelia, running his fingers from her shoulder, down her arm.

"Rock, we shouldn't…I mean, we can't," she said. "We're not married yet."

"Yet," said Rock. "Six more months and we will be."

"So, we can just wait a few more months," said Amelia, backing away from him.

"Why do we need to wait?" he asked, walking towards her. He put his arms around her and pulled her towards him. He leaned in and kissed her.

Amelia thought, _I suppose now is a good a time as any to play the dutiful wife…_

* * *

Amelia lay on her side in the bed, staring at the curtains. The sheer curtains let the afternoon light in, and she could just barely make out the view of Brooklyn.

Brooklyn. Spot was out there somewhere. She thought about Spot's smirk – that smirk he always had when he one-upped her, or did something to get under her skin. It pissed her off every time, but she always enjoyed seeing it. The eyes that rolled whenever she said something he thought was stupid. The eyes that made her stomach do a little flip whenever she looked into them.

Rock lightly snored behind her, taking a nap after the afternoon's activities. Amelia closed her eyes, wishing herself to wake up. Hoping, praying it had been a dream.

She couldn't stay there anymore. She had to get out. She quietly slipped out of bed, wincing at the sore feeling. She walked into the en suite washroom to clean up. She quietly dressed and left Rock a note, making up some silly excuse to get out of there.

She pulled on her coat and walked into the snowy, chilly winter air. As soon as she walked out of the hotel, she let the tears flow. What she had been told was supposed to be an expression of love was a painful, unwanted memory of a hotel room. She turned onto the Brooklyn Bridge, wanting to talk to some one – anyone. She decided to go straight to Harlem and find Maggie. If anyone could help her through this, it was her.

She stopped in the middle of the bridge and held onto the railing, sobbing. She had to get her crying under control. She was bound to run into someone she knew. She steadied her breathing and wiped her tears.

"Amelia?" she heard a voice behind her.

She turned and saw Spot. "Hi," she said, quickly turning her face toward the river, so he couldn't see she'd been crying.

"What are ya doin' in Brooklyn?" he asked.

"I was…visiting Rock," she said.

Spot nodded. "Your Brooklyn Rockefeller." Amelia nodded. Spot looked at her for a few moments. "Can I walk ya home?"

Amelia gave him a look. He hadn't made a snide or sarcastic comment yet. It felt strange.

She shook her head. "I just want to be alone right now," said Amelia.

"Okay," said Spot, softly. He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. Amelia looked over at him, puzzled at his uncharacteristic demeanor. "See ya around." He turned around and walked back to Brooklyn.

Amelia got on a trolley and headed up to Harlem. She arrived at the front door of the women's shelter. She walked in and found Maggie's room. Maggie was sitting in a rocking chair, talking to Penny and Baby. Her belly was bigger.

"Hi," said Amelia.

The girls looked up and smiled. "Hi," Maggie said, standing up.

"You're bigger every time I see you," she said, grinning.

"Yeah," said Maggie. "Are you okay? You look like you've been crying."

Amelia sniffed and nodded. She sat down on Maggie's bed and told them about what happened that day. Penny reached over and took her hand, comforting her.

"I'm sorry," said Maggie. "No girl should have to go through that."

"It is supposed to…hurt like that?" Amelia asked.

Maggie shook her head. "Not really," she said. "A little at first, but he should've been gentle."

Amelia sighed. "I just feel so dirty and…used." She paused. "Then, right after, I ran into Spot. He was acting…weird."

"Weird how?" asked Penny.

"Weird…really nice, no opening insults," said Amelia. "He asked if I was okay, offered to walk me home. It was unsettling."

"Spot's a good guy," said Baby. "Better than he lets on."


	7. Chapter 7

_December 1899_

The next day was another busy day at Tibby's with all the newsies trying to stay inside and out of the cold. Several of the younger ones were building snowmen and having snowball fights out front.

Amelia walked in, looking stricken.

"Amelia, are you okay?" Baby called from her table.

Amelia walked over and sat down.

"Rock was attacked last night," she said, sitting down.

"What happened?" asked Penny.

"We're not entirely sure; he hasn't woken up yet," she said. "His mother sent for me this morning, and I just went to see him. They think he was jumped when he was walking home last night. The odd thing was, he wasn't mugged. All of his money and his watch were still on him. We don't know why he was beat up, but he's in very bad shape."

"Wow," said Baby, raising his eyebrows. "Do they know who did it?"

Amelia shrugged. "Rock's mom told me they caught the guy as he was attacking Rock and he's in jail now."

Jack walked in and sat next to Baby. "Hi, Baby," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey you," she said. "How is Spot?"

"Can't say," said Jack. "I go over to Brooklyn, and Flint tells me Spot's got himself locked up in the Brooklyn Refuge."

Amelia's head snapped up. "He's where? Why?"

"The refuge," said Jack. "Jail. Flint said he got caught soakin' some sucker yesterday."

Amelia and Baby shared a look, putting the pieces together. "Where is this refuge?" asked Amelia.

"It's the one in Brooklyn," said Jack, taking a drink. "I think it's on Flatbush."

"I need to go," said Amelia. "I'll see you guys later."

Amelia walked out and hopped on a trolley. It took her twenty minutes and several trolley changes to get to Flatbush. Another twenty minutes of looking, she found the Brooklyn Refuge. It was a very run-down building.

Amelia walked up to the door and walked in. It was just as cold inside as it was outside. A man was sitting at the counter.

"You must be lost," said the man.

"Is this the Brooklyn Refuge?" Amelia asked.

"Yeah," he said.

"Then I'm not lost," said Amelia. "Did a boy named Spot Conlon get put here last night?"

The man checked some paperwork. "Yeah."

"Can I see him?" asked Amelia.

"No visitors," said the man.

Amelia pulled a bill from her purse and slid it across the counter. "Are you sure?" she asked.

The man looked down at the bill and pocketed it. "Right this way, miss," he said, walking around the counter. He walked her to an empty office with nothing but a desk and two chairs. "Wait here." Amelia walked into the room, looking around at the barrenness. She pulled her coat tighter around her. She glanced out the window, before sitting down next to the desk.

She waited about five minutes before she heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Spot walked in, the man's hand heavy on his shoulder. He pushed Spot down into a chair before turning back. "Knock when you're done, miss." He closed and locked the door from the outside.

Amelia looked at Spot, who was avoiding her gaze, looking around the room. She kept looking at him until he finally locked eyes with her.

"What?" he asked, defensively.

"Was it you, or is this an enormous coincidence?" she asked.

"You just can't stay away from me, can you?" he smirked.

"Tell me."

"How'd you know where I was?" he asked.

"Jack told me." Amelia watched him tap his fingers on the desk. "So was it you? Were you the one who attacked Rock last night?"

Spot looked at his fingers tapping on the desk. He didn't answer.

"Why?" asked Amelia, shaking her head in disbelief.

Spot didn't say anything.

"Spot, I'm not going to get mad, I just want to know why," she said.

Spot kept quiet, not meeting her gaze.

Amelia sighed and sat down across from him, rubbing her eyes. "Look, Conlon. Today I've been from the Upper East Side to Park Slope back to Manhattan, and then schlepped all the way _here_ from Tibby's. It took me forty-five minutes just to find the place. I had to bribe a guy to let me see you. At least look at me."

Spot raised his head and looked her in the eye, his eyebrows raised as if to say _Happy now?_ Amelia opened her hands, waiting for an explanation. When she received none, she sighed and leaned back in her chair. They sat there, looking at each other for nearly a minute.

"How long did it get you?" she asked softly.

"Six months," said Spot.

"And you're not gonna tell me why?" she asked.

Spot sighed, not saying anything.

Amelia rolled her eyes and stood up. She went to knock on the door. She raised her hand when Spot finally spoke up.

"He put his hands on you," he said.

Amelia froze. Slowly, she turned around. "What?" she asked.

Spot turned in his seat and looked at her. "I saw you two," he said. "Outside that hotel near the bridge." Amelia felt her chest tighten at the thought that some one saw…that he knew what happened. "He was trying to get you to go inside, and you didn't want to. I heard what he said. About you two practically bein' married." Amelia stared at him in shock. Spot stood up and walked over to her. "When I saw you later, you'd been crying."

"Y-you saw?" she asked, her breath getting shallow. All at once she felt shame, shock, and…something else. Something else that stirred inside her when she saw the way Spot looked at her.

Spot nodded.

"Look, Spot, what happens to me…I mean, between me and Rock is…it's…he's right, we're almost married, and…it's none of your business if…we…I…he's going to be my husband, and…it's …well…a woman's duty…and…" Tears filled her eyes, as she felt herself getting worked up.

"Amelia," said Spot, turning her face towards him. "No."

"What?"

Spot shook his head. "It shouldn't be like that," he said. "You didn't want to, and he made you."

"That's why you attacked him?" she said softly, still a little confused.

"Some one has to look out for you," he said, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"I thought Spot Conlon doesn't soak guys for no reason," she said.

"I had good reason," said Spot.

Amelia looked at him for a few moments. "You're a better man than people give you credit for."

"Shh," Spot put a finger over his lips and winked.

Amelia couldn't help but grin. "This is the second time you've done something like this for me. Careful, Conlon. People might get the wrong idea about you and me."

"I'm not the rich girl who took forty-five minutes to find a dirty House of Refuge and bribed a guy just to visit a criminal," said Spot. "I think people are more likely to get the wrong idea about that."

"I'll keep your secret if you keep mine."

"Deal."

Amelia grinned again. "Can I come see you again?"

Spot raised an eyebrow. "You want to come back here?"

Amelia shrugged. "It's gonna be six months, and you're…"

"I'm…?"

"My friend," Amelia finished, rolling her eyes.

Spot smirked. "I thought you didn't have guys as friends. It's not what they're for."

"Don't make me over think it, or I'll be on the next trolley out of here, never to return." She reached her hand into her purse.

"Time's up," said the man, opening the door.

"Okay," said Amelia. "I hope it's warmer in your bunkroom than it is in here."

"It's not."

Amelia took a step closer to Spot, smirking. She was close enough he could smell her perfume, and he felt her slip something into his pocket. "Bye," she whispered.

She turned around and walked out. The man put his hand on Spot's shoulder and pushed him out of the room, and back upstairs. The door locked behind him. Spot put his hand in his pocket and felt a cigarette that hadn't been there before. He smirked and walked over to the window, watching Amelia walk down the street. He could still smell her perfume lingering on his shirt.


	8. Chapter 8

_December 1899_

Amelia lay in bed the next morning, thinking about her visit with Spot. She always knew Spot was a good guy, from what she'd heard from the girls, but there was something about being on the receiving end made her think about him differently. Only two months ago, he was breaking a man's hands so she could get her best friend back. Now he was serving time for beating up her fiancé because Rock had coerced her into sleeping with him.

She felt something in her gut when she thought about Spot serving six months in a House of Refuge, all because he was defending her. No one had ever done anything like that for her before. Sure, to earn her affections gentleman callers had thrown their money around – lots of money – but they had plenty of money. Spot's consequences were a sacrifice – one he made willingly. He knew what he was getting into when he beat up Rock. He rarely rushed into anything without thinking it through.

* * *

 _January 1900_

"Merry Christmas," said Amelia as Spot was escorted into the room once more.

"And a Happy New Year," said Spot, sitting down. "Christmas was two weeks ago."

The warden left, locking the door once more.

"I couldn't get over here sooner," said Amelia. "Lots of holiday festivities with my family, Rock's family…"

"You're still with Rock?" Spot asked.

"Well, yeah," said Amelia, as if it should be obvious. "Why? Jealous?" She smirked.

"Has he touched you again?" he asked.

Amelia's smirk faded as she looked down, fiddling with her purse. "I don't want to talk about it." Spot sighed. "Well, what do you expect? What am I supposed to do?"

"Tell your mother. Tell your father. They'll put a stop to it!"

"Look, Rock's right, okay? We're going to be married soon anyway, so what does it matter?"

"Because you don't want to."

"My life hasn't exactly been about what I want."

Spot sighed and threw up his hands. "Forget it. There's no reasoning with you."

"You know, if I wanted to fight with someone, I could just go visit my brother. I don't have to bribe anyone to go see him." She stood up and headed for the door.

"Wait." Spot reached out and grabbed her hand. "Don't go." Amelia looked down at him. "I'm sorry, okay? You're the first person I've talked to in two weeks. They have me in isolation."

"What did you do?" Amelia asked, sitting down.

"Some kid was mouthin' off and wouldn't shut up," said Spot.

"And?"

Spot rolled his eyes. "I may have started a fight in the bunkroom."

Amelia sighed. "Conlon, you gotta be careful. They'll add time to your sentence for stuff like that."

Spot smirked and shrugged. "Soon as I get out of isolation, my boys are gonna come back and bust me out."

"Will you come find me when they do?" she asked. Spot grinned. "Because I'd hate to haul myself all the way down here one day only to find that you're gone." Spot rolled his eyes.

"You'll be the first."


	9. Chapter 9

_January 1900_

"Gone?" asked Amelia, staring at her father. "What do you mean 'gone?'"

Mr. Wakefield sighed. "I'm sorry, princess," he said. "Our expansion plans were all set in place, the investments made, but this strike in my factories is lasting much longer than I anticipated. We can't even get some of those…oh, what do you call them…"

"Scabs," said Mrs. Wakefield.

"Yes," he said. "We can't get even any of those to come work for us! Production is at an all time low – zero! With no production, our expenses don't get paid, and the money we invested in our expansions into Brooklyn and Queens are squandered, because we can't pay our bills to keep us afloat!"

"So what does all this mean?" asked Amelia.

"We're going to be pinching pennies for a while," said her father. "No more fancy dinners, no more allowances, no more clothes buying. I'm going to have to let our house staff go."

"What?!" asked Mrs. Wakefield. "All of that? How bad could business possibly be?"

"Oh, sweetheart, if you only knew," he said. "But we're all going to have to work together. We can get through this." He paused. "But it's going to take some effort on your part."

"What do you mean?" asked Amelia.

"I need you two to work," said Mr. Wakefield.

"Work?" spit out Amelia. "What about Rock?"

"He is not to know about this," said her father. "Not until you two are married. I don't want to risk him thinking we were trying to swindle him and have him call off the wedding." The thought gave Amelia a sick feeling in her stomach.

* * *

"Are you okay, darling?" Rock asked as they walked through Central Park.

"Yes," said Amelia, her thoughts still with the conversation with her father that morning. "Just a little distracted today, I guess." She put on a fake smile for him. "Wedding plans and all."

 _Oh, the wedding,_ Amelia groaned inwardly. _How are we going to pay for the wedding?_

"I hear it is to be quite the affair," he said.

"Oh, it is," she said. "Mama and your mother are very busy planning every little detail."

"I'm not surprised that my mother is involved," he chuckled. "She has to have her hands in everything. Yesterday she was telling me we needed to start doing charity work with some of our money."

"Maybe something close to home for you," Amelia suggested. "There are newsies lodging houses in Brooklyn that I'm sure could use some help."

Rock looked at her. "What is it with you and the newsies? You are always downtown visiting them."

"Well, my brother is a newsie." Amelia shrugged.

"It's not appropriate. A woman of your class should not be hanging around poor kids all the time."

Amelia frowned, hating the way he was talking about her friends. "They're just like us, Rock."

"No, darling, they're not."

"Brian?" they heard a voice ahead of them. Amelia looked up and saw a woman walking towards them. She was decked out in furs to keep warm.

"Anna," Rock said. Amelia detected something in his voice. Surprise? No, there was another edge to the way he said her name.

"So good to see you." Anna took her hand out of her muff and extended it to him. Rock took her hand and kissed her knuckles. Amelia noticed his lips lingered on her knuckles a little longer than normal.

"Anna, this is Amelia Wakefield, my…ah…"

"Fiancé," Amelia answered for him. She cast a suspicious look up at him and shook Anna's hand.

"Ah," Anna gave a knowing nod. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise." Amelia nodded.

"Good day." Anna nodded and continued on her way. Rock led Amelia along the path once more.

"Who was that?" asked Amelia.

"Just…a woman." Rock looked straight ahead.

Amelia couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something…off about the way Rock and Anna had acted around her.


	10. Chapter 10

_January 1900_

A week later, Amelia lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She hadn't meant to let it slip. She was exhausted from working by night, and courting Rock by day. She only had time for two long naps as sleep in between. At the moment, Rock and her father were downstairs. She could hear their voices from her bedroom.

"You mean to tell me you were planning on tricking me?" Rock asked, indignantly.

"Tricks? You're one to talk, _Rockefeller_ ," her father said.

"Excuse me, but I never pretended to be anything I'm not," said Rock. "My last name is Rockefeller."

Amelia thought back to the events of the week.

* * *

 _"I hope Spot's doin' okay," said Jack. "Usually by now his boys would've busted him out."_

 _Amelia had to bite her tongue. She didn't want them to know she'd been visiting Spot in the refuge and that she knew he hadn't busted out because he was in isolation._

 _"Well, the warden might have taken extra precautions. I mean, Spot's busted out so many times already, I'm surprised they didn't extend his sentence when he got in there," said Baby._

 _Amelia picked at her bread roll, tearing off small bites and concentrating on chewing them. She tried to think of how she could sneak Spot some food the next time she visited him._

 _"Amelia? You okay?" Penny asked._

 _"Hm? Oh, I'm fine," Amelia replied. When thinking of Spot didn't distract her, she was distracted thinking of Rock and that Anna they had met. But lately she was too tired to care._

 _"There's your lover boy," said Specs, nodding out the window._

 _Amelia looked out and saw Rock walking down the street. He smiled and waved at a carriage that pulled up in front of him._

 _"Must be down here on business," said Amelia, looking back down at her roll._

 _"Um, I don't think so." Specs looked from out the window to Amelia, and the back out the window._

 _Amelia looked up and saw Brian's arms around a familiar figure as the carriage drove away. It was Anna._

 _Amelia was speechless. She just stared out the window, open-mouthed._

 _"Who is that woman?" Specs frowned._

 _"Anna."_

 _"You know her?"_

 _"I've met her, I just didn't know…oh god…" Amelia put her head in her hands, humiliated._

 _Specs threw his fork down and stood up._

 _"Specs, no," Penny grabbed his arm, holding him back._

 _Amelia looked up. "Henry, please, just stay."_

 _"But he's cheating on you!" Specs said angrily. "I'm not going to let him dishonor my sister in broad daylight." Amelia was surprised at his statement, but was glad that, despite their differences, he still had her back._

 _"And if Rock gets beat up by one more newsie, he's going to lose it!" Amelia said, raising her voice. "He's already telling me I need to stop spending so much time with you people."_

 _They looked at her. "What do you mean by 'one more newsie'?" Jack asked. Amelia put her hand over her mouth. "Who beat him up last time?"_

 _Amelia looked up at him, then over to Baby._

 _"Spot," said Baby, putting the pieces together. Amelia nodded._

 _"Spot?" asked Specs. "Why would Spot soak your fiancé?"_

 _"I don't want to talk about it," said Amelia, shaking her head._

* * *

That was just the first time that week she'd spoken without thinking.

* * *

 _"How many kids do you think we should have?" Rock asked as they rode along in the carriage._

 _"Whatever you think is best, darling," she smiled._ Make up your mind, Rockefeller, _she thought._ You having kids with me, or that Anna?

 _"As many as possible," he smiled, putting his arm around her, kissing her._

 _Amelia giggled. "Sounds like we'll be very busy."_

 _"Oh, I plan on it." He winked. "I've been looking at places to live once we're married. I won't look at anything with less than seven bedrooms. What do you think, should we live in Park Slope or Manhattan?"_

 _"I'm not living in Brooklyn," said Amelia. Spot would be hanging around constantly. Once she was married she never wanted to see him again – she couldn't be a dedicated and dutiful wife with a distraction like him around._

 _Rock chuckled. "Fair enough. Manhattan has the better schools, I'll give you that. Oh, driver, pull over here."_

 _Amelia looked out the window. The driver had pulled up to a hotel. She looked at Rock who gave her a knowing smile._

 _"Rock, I can't today," said Amelia. "I need to get home."_

 _"Home? No, your parents know you're with me. It won't be a problem. Come on." He stepped out of the carriage._

 _"No, Rock, I really need to go." If Rock pulled her into that hotel room, by the time he was done with her, she would be late for work._

 _"Why? What's more important than spending time with your fiancé?"_

 _"I just need to go."_

 _"Go where?"_

 _"I'm going to be late for work!" Amelia spit out before she realized it. Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth._

 _Rock paused. "Work? What do you mean work?"_

 _"I…um…I meant get to work on the wedding, of course." She put her smile back on._

 _"No, that's not what you meant." Rock climbed back in the carriage. "What did you mean work?"_

 _Amelia opened the carriage door next to her to get out, but Rock pulled it shut, holding onto her wrists. "Tell me now."_

* * *

Her father was going to be so angry with her when Rock left, and he made his way up to her room. Rock wasn't supposed to find out they had no money until after the wedding. Money always complicated matters, especially the more you had.

She thought about the newsies. Money wasn't an issue for them. So long as they had enough for food and rent and able to buy papers the next day, they were happy. They could go where they wanted, do what they wanted, and didn't have to answer to anyone or rise to anyone's expectations.

Her mind drifted to Spot. He was probably still in isolation. She looked out at the snow that was falling. She remembered how cold it was inside the refuge the last time she was there. She imagined Spot in that dark, windowless room, freezing. No one ever saw him like that. She knew she was the only one who'd ever seen him when he was in the refuge. She found herself wishing she could be there with him.

"I've got better offers, Wakefield," Rock said from downstairs. Amelia could hear footsteps towards the door.

"Oh you do, do you?" said Mr. Wakefield. "Were you running around on my daughter?"

 _Yes, he was,_ Amelia thought. She rolled out of bed, knowing she had to get ready for work.


	11. Chapter 11

_February 1900_

Once more, Amelia found herself at the Brooklyn Refuge. After everything that had happened, she needed some one to talk to. Some one who understood. Some one who'd been there every step of the way, whether she'd liked it or not. Some one who knew all the gory details of her and Rock's relationship, whether she'd wanted him to or not.

The man led Spot into the cold, bare room once more and set him down. Amelia frowned when she saw Spot. He didn't look good. He had thinned out even more than usual and had dark circles under his eyes. The man closed the door.

"You look like hell, Conlon," said Amelia.

"Too bad. I was hopin' to try out for the Brooklyn Beauty Pageant," he said.

"Well, you would've taken them by storm," said Amelia. "What's been going on?"

Spot shrugged. "Same as any other refuge in this city. The warden pockets the money the city gives to him. Gives us only what we need to survive. A couple slices of bread and all the dirty water we can drink."

Amelia felt something inside her ache for him. She hated the warden for what he did.

"You still in isolation?" Amelia asked. Spot nodded. Amelia hated to think of him in a small, windowless room in the basement.

"Ain't you gettin' married in a couple months? What are you doin' down here?"

Amelia sighed and looked out the window and the bleak view of tenements. "Rock is gone."

"What?" Spot frowned.

"He's gone," she repeated. "Apparently there's another prettier, richer girl he'd rather marry." She purposely left out that Rock also left because there was no more Wakefield money.

"He can't do that," said Spot, angry. "He can't just leave you like that. You two were engaged, there was a date and a church and everything."

Amelia shrugged. She looked down at her bare ring finger. "You can't make a man do what he doesn't want to," she said, sitting down across from him.

"After he…" Spot said, before slamming his fist on the table. "Bastard."

"Calm down, Conlon," said Amelia, turning around.

"No!" said Spot. "After what he did to you…" He sighed. "So what's gonna happen now?"

Amelia shrugged. "I'll go back on the hunt. Do what I do best – get the men to fall in love with me, and see if another one takes the bait and proposes."

"You used to be a lot happier about doin' that. What else?" asked Spot. Amelia shook her head and looked down. "Come on, I know there's something else bugging you."

"I…it's nothing," said Amelia.

"Come on."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I just can't."

Spot paused. "You're not…"

"What?"

"You know…" Spot mimed a pregnant belly.

"Oh, god, no," said Amelia. "Not…nothing like that."

"Oh, good," Spot said, trying not to show too much relief. "So what is it?"

Amelia felt tears blur her vision. "I'm ruined," she shrugged.

"No you're not," said Spot, leaning forward.

"Yeah, I am," her voice cracked. "Rock said it didn't matter if we slept together because we were going to be married anyway. But now he's gone, and the next man is going to know that he's not my first. No man is going to want a used woman." Her tears dripped down onto her dress as she tried to swallow her sobs.

"Listen to me." Spot leaned in and took her hands. "You're not ruined, okay? There's more to you than just that. The guy who gets to marry you is going to be one lucky bastard. You're generous. You're thoughtful. You're sweet when you're not sassin' me."

Amelia couldn't help but smile.

"And if they get to see the side of you that I see, they'll love you all the more," Spot finished.

She looked up at him. _What is he getting at?_ she thought. "Thanks."

Spot nodded and leaned back.

Things were getting a little too real for her. "I have to go." Amelia stood up. She slid her hand into his. He felt a cigarette in the palm of her hand. Amelia moved to bring her hand back, but Spot was holding on. She looked up at him. They shared a tender look before Spot pulled his hand away, sliding the cigarette into his pocket.

"You're an angel," he said.

"Behave yourself, mister." She walked toward the door.

"Amelia?"

Amelia turned around. Spot stood up and walked over to her, standing very close in front of her. She could tell he wanted to say something, but was having trouble coming up with the words.

There was so much Spot wanted to say to Amelia. He'd been locked up in the refuge countless times, but no one had ever come visit him. Sure, his boys would come to bust him out, but that was it. No one had ever cared as much as she did that he was in there. Now, an upper class girl bribed the warden just to come and visit. He could do nothing for her; she didn't want anything from him. They were just…friends. That was it. They snarked at each other plenty on the outside, but when it was just them in the empty room, they both seemed a little more willing to open up. But how could he say all that to her? He tried, but all that came out was, "Thanks."

Amelia smiled, hearing the weight in his voice behind the single word. She kissed him on the cheek before walking out.


	12. Chapter 12

_March 1900_

Amelia took the trolley up to Harlem and got off at the stop near Maggie's house. She walked into the house, up the stairs, and down the hall to Maggie's room, where Maggie was laying on the bed, propped up by pillows, breathing heavily.

"Oh my gosh," said Amelia. "Is it happening?"

Maggie looked up at her and nodded.

"Oh…oh…um…" said Amelia, turning this way and that, not sure what to do.

"Can you just sit with me?" Maggie asked.

"Of course," said Amelia, pulling a chair next to the bed.

"I've already sent for Penny and Baby," said Maggie.

"Good," Amelia nodded. "Good, because I don't think I'd be any good at this."

Maggie smiled.

"Are you scared?" asked Amelia.

"Only of doing this alone," said Maggie.

"I'll be here with you," said Amelia. "You think it's gonna be a boy or a girl?"

"I don't know," said Maggie.

"What are your names?" she asked.

"If it's a boy…well, I told Penny to find out Skittery's real name," said Maggie. Amelia smiled down at her. "If it's a girl, Sofie. My grandmother's name."

Maggie's face contorted in pain and she squeezed Amelia's hand tight.

"Are you okay? What's going on?" Amelia asked, beginning to panic.

"Just a contraction," Maggie got out.

"Oh, okay, um, breathe, just breathe, and…uh….breathe."

"Yeah, I got that part," said Maggie.

"I told you I'm not good at this," said Amelia.

Just then the midwife came in. "How are we doing?"

"Stressed out!" said Amelia. Maggie patted Amelia's hand.

"I'm fine," said Maggie. "But the contractions are getting closer."

The midwife sat on a stool at the edge of the bed and checked Maggie.

"I think we're ready to start pushing," she said.

Amelia sat next to Maggie, holding her hand and patting down her forehead with a cloth as the sweat began to bead on her forehead, and mat her hair down. She tried to be as encouraging as possible.

"We're here!" Penny and Baby burst into the room.

"Oh thank God," said Amelia, standing up.

Amelia moved so Penny could sit next to Maggie and hold her hand. When she moved, she got a glimpse of the baby crowning and suddenly felt lightheaded and a sick feeling in her stomach.

"I need to…step out," said Amelia. She walked out of the room and over to an open window, getting fresh air. She put her hand to her forehead and it was cold and clammy.

 _Oh, that looked horrible,_ thought Amelia. _How do women do that? I don't think I could ever…oh, the pain she's in…_

After a few deep breaths, she was able to calm down and not feel so sick. She opened the door to walk back in and got another glimpse of the baby's head half out of Maggie. Feeling sick again, she turned right around and went back to the window, taking deep breaths.

A baby's cry jolted her out of her thoughts. She turned and rushed in. The midwife was cleaning the baby up.

"It's a beautiful little girl," said the midwife, smiling. She wrapped the baby and gave her to Maggie.

"She's beautiful!" swooned Penny.

"Little Sofie," Maggie smiled, holding her daughter.

Amelia grinned, walking around to the other side of the bed. "She's amazing," she said.

* * *

Baby decided to stay with Maggie a little while longer and take care of the baby while Maggie got some much needed sleep.

Penny walked with Amelia down the street.

"Can I be honest with you, Amelia?" Penny asked.

"Sure," said Amelia.

"Skittery deserves to know," she said. "I know you and he have never really gotten along, but you and I both know that if she had told him, he would've stepped up and helped her. He would've stuck by her, supported her, and he'd be raising that baby as he should."

Amelia looked over at her. "You're right," she said. "But it's not our place to tell him. We made a promise to Maggie."

"It just kills me to be around him," said Penny. "The guy is like a brother to me, and I hate seeing him still so broken hearted."

"But that part we can't help," said Amelia.

"I don't know," said Penny. "He and I were talking last night. He really hates the way Maggie left. Sure, he felt angry and betrayed when he found out about her – we all did – but after he had time to cool down, he really wanted to talk to her and I think he still loves her. But by then, she'd disappeared. And the fact that I know where she is, just…makes me feel so horrible inside."

"I've tried talking to Maggie about it," said Amelia, shrugging. "She won't see him."

"We've gotta find a way," said Penny.


	13. Chapter 13

_March 1900_

Amelia walked into Tibby's where all the newsies were gathered. She sat down next to Jack and Baby. She saw Specs and Skittery sitting a few tables over. She felt the weight of everything on her shoulders – she was exhausted from working, she was worried what was happening to Spot in the refuge, she couldn't bear to look at Skittery, knowing what she knew, and Maggie still refused to come out of hiding.

"Hi, Amelia," Penny smiled. "You okay?"

"Fine," said Amelia yawning.

"What's wrong?"

Amelia just shrugged. "It's just been a long week."

"I hear that," said Jack yawning. "I been in Brooklyn all night busting Spot out."

Amelia looked up at him. "He's out?"

Baby paid attention to Amelia's reaction.

"Yeah," said Jack. "Brooklyn asked me to help out – I've got so much experience busting guys out and all." He smirked.

"Is he…how's he doin'?" Amelia asked.

Jack shrugged. "Alright, I guess. About as good as any of us after that long in the refuge."

"Right," said Amelia. "So he's…back at the Brooklyn lodging house?"

Baby gave her a questioning look and Amelia just shook her head.

"Nah, he's gonna hide out over here for a while," said Jack.

"Over here as in…Manhattan?" asked Amelia.

Baby smirked at her and Amelia just shook her head and furrowed her brow.

"Yeah," said Jack, clueless to the silent conversation between the girls. "He's gonna stay in our lodging house."

"When did this happen?" asked Amelia.

"Last night," said Jack. "Spot's catchin' up on some sleep at the lodging house now."

Amelia nodded. "I need to get home," she said, standing up. She looked at Baby and Jack. "Um…my parents will be wondering where I am." She put on a smile and walked toward the door.

Just as she walked up to the door, Crutchy walked in.

"Heya, Miss Wakefield," Crutchy grinned as he tipped his hat.

"Hi Crutchy," Amelia gave him a smile.

"May I walk ya home?" he offered her his arm.

"The honor would be mine," she said, looping her arm through his. Crutchy grinned and limped off, with Amelia on his arm.

* * *

"Thank you, Crutchy," Amelia smiled when he walked her to her door. "You're a real gentleman."

"Ah, it was nothin'," said Crutchy, waving his hand.

"Here," said Amelia. "Take the trolley back." He tried to hand him some money.

"No, no," said Crutchy, pushing it away. "I'm just gonna walk."

"Crutchy, that's almost three miles," she said.

"Walkin's good for ya," said Crutchy. "It's healthy."

Amelia smiled at him. "Okay," she said. "I'll see you later."

"Bye, Miss Wakefield!" Crutchy waved, limping off.

Amelia turned and opened her front door. She closed the door and leaned against it, looking around at the empty foyer. She never realized how loud emptiness could be. No more servants bustled about cleaning and cooking. Their beautiful furniture had all been sold at auction. She walked through the bottom floor. The parlor, dining room, and living room were all empty of furniture.

Amelia walked up the stairs to her bedroom – one of the two remaining furnished rooms in the house. She sat down at her vanity and looked at herself in the mirror.

"Heya, doll," said a voice from the window.

Amelia screamed and startled. She looked over at the window and saw Spot sitting on the fire escape, smirking.

Her face broke out into a smile. He looked like his old self – the color had returned to his cheeks, he looked rested, and like he'd been eating again.

"Spot," she said, standing up. Then something clicked in her mind. She rushed over to the window. "You can't be here."

"Well that's not a very warm welcome," said Spot. "Jeez, my boys get me out of the refuge, and the first person I come see doesn't want me around. Hey Wakefield, where's all your furniture?"

"What?" asked Amelia.

"I peeked in your living room window on my way up here," he said, climbing through the window. "Where's all your stuff?"

"Please leave," said Amelia, once he had pushed his way in.

Spot gave her a confused look and walked into the hallway, looking in all the rooms. "Wakefield, I think you got robbed," said Spot.

Amelia stood in her bedroom, not wanting to face the humiliation.

Spot walked back in. "What's going on?"

"Please, just go," said Amelia, avoiding eye contact.

Spot walked over and sat on the small sofa near her window.

"You're impossible," said Amelia, shaking her head. "You need to leave. I need to get ready for work"

"Work?" Spot snorted. "You work now?"

"Yes, I work now," Amelia snapped back. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Uh, yeah, it is," said Spot, laughing. "I'd pay to see that. I would think your pop would've lined up a new fiancé for you by now."

"Well, that's kinda hard to do when Papa has no standing in society anymore," she said.

Spot stood up and walked over to her. "What happened?"

"We're broke," she said simply. "Between strikes, and failed business expansion, and borrowing more than we could ever pay back, we had to sell our stuff off at auction."

Spot didn't say anything.

Amelia shrugged her shoulders. "The spoiled little rich girl got what was coming to her, I guess." She looked at the clock. "I need to get ready for work."

She walked into her closet. She changed out of the outfit she had on and pulled on her corset. She began lacing it up the front, pulling the strings as tight as she could.

Spot heard gasps and small grunt from her closet. "You all right in there?" he called.

"Fine!" Amelia called, finally tying her corset off. She pulled on a dress she wouldn't be caught dead in during the daytime. She buttoned it up and walked out.

"Whoa," said Spot, his jaw dropping.

"Please don't," said Amelia, sighing in humiliation. She sat down at her vanity and began applying her make up. She powdered her face and neck, put on rouge, eyeliner, and eye shadow. She saw Spot watching her from her side mirror.

"Wakefield, you're not…you know…"

"What?" asked Amelia.

"You're not streetwalkin' for work, are ya?" Spot asked. Amelia gave him a look of disgust. He put his hands up in defense. "Just makin' sure."

* * *

Once Amelia was ready, she pulled on her coat and walked out the door, followed by Spot.

"Where's your mom and pop?" asked Spot.

"Mama…works," she said. "Papa is off taking care of, I don't know, legal stuff or something."

"Do they know you're having to dress like that for work?" Spot asked. Amelia nodded. "And they let you?"

"We need the money," she said, walking down the street. Spot followed her. "What are you doing?"

"Walkin' you to work," said Spot, following her onto a trolley.

"Please don't," said Amelia.

"Come on, Wakefield," he said. "You've seen me at my worst, and still stuck by me."

Amelia looked at him, wondering what he meant by that.

They got off the trolley at 42nd street and walked a couple blocks. The sun was beginning to set below the skyline and Amelia walked up to a nightclub.

"You work here?" Spot asked, raising his eyebrows.

Amelia sighed and walked in, followed by Spot. "No," she turned around, pushing him out. "You're leaving. Stay away."

Spot stood out on the sidewalk while Amelia went inside.

 _I should just go back to the lodging house,_ he thought. _Just go home. I need to get up and sell tomorrow. I can't spend my time hangin' around the Tenderloin District, lookin' out for Amelia. She's smart, she can take care of herself._

Spot sighed and jerked the door open, walking inside. He sat down at the end of the bar, and watched Amelia work. She weaved her way through tables, taking drink orders while the men laughed, talked, played poker, and enjoyed the singing girls on the stage. He watched the man grab and grope Amelia, and she played it off with a smile and a giggle, but he didn't miss the look of humiliation and sadness when she thought no one was looking. He watched her turn her smile and charm on and off like a switch. At one point during the night, she looked up and locked eyes with him. She looked like she wanted to disappear right through the floor.

All night, every time Amelia glanced at the end of the bar, she saw Spot sitting there, sipping on water. The light was turning purple outside as dawn was getting ready to break. The owners closed the doors, and Amelia collected her wages. Having nowhere else to put them, she stuck them in the top of her corset with the tips she'd made that night.

She put her coat on and walked outside. Right outside the side door, leaning against a lamppost was Spot.

"Happy now?" she asked. "Have you gotten your kicks seeing the spoiled rich girl have to work?"

"No," said Spot. "It doesn't make me happy."

Amelia turned and walked home. Spot fell into step beside her.

"What was this all about, Conlon?" she asked, sighing. They got on the trolley, heading uptown. "Why did you follow me to work? Why did you stay at work? Why are you following me home? Why?"

Spot shrugged. "Someone's gotta look out for you," he said, slinging his arm around her neck. "And we're friends, remember?"


	14. Chapter 14

_April 1900_

"What about a seamstress?" asked Spot, sitting on the sofa in her room, watching her get ready for work.

"I can't sew," said Amelia. "Mama tried to teach me when I was younger. I ended up making a blouse with one sleeve longer than the other."

"There's easier jobs," said Spot. "In some clothes factories there's just cutting. I'm sure you could operate scissors, or learn to."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Spot, I'm not leaving my job."

"Why not? Are you so afraid of hard work that you're not willing to try something you're not good at and _learn_?" he asked.

"No, it's because…" she paused and sighed. "Spot, I'm in a job where…I'm good at what I do. It's what I've been raised and trained to do – enjoy the company of men."

"But you don't enjoy it," said Spot.

"Well, pretend to enjoy, at least," she said. "It's what I know, it's what I'm good at. And I make money there that I can't make anywhere else."

Spot sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Fine," he said. "I just don't like…" He cut himself off and shook his head.

"Don't like what?"

"Nothin'," said Spot. "Not my place to say."

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "Since when are you so shy about telling me what you think?"

Spot looked at her a moment before speaking. "I don't like men looking at you like that," said Spot. Amelia's expression softened. "I'm a man, and with the way you have to dress for work, I know what those men are thinking when they see you, and…I don't like men lookin' or thinkin' about you like that."

Amelia hadn't been expecting that. It took her a moment or two to get her bearings. "Well, you're not my fiancé. You're not my father, you're not my brother, you're not…anything. So you don't get a say in what I do for work." She turned back around and put on her earrings.

"That's all I get?" Spot asked. "Wakefield, I spent four months in jail for you."

"And you think that gives you some sort of right to tell me what to do?" asked Amelia, putting on her necklace.

"You can be a real pain sometimes," said Spot. "No, change that to _all_ the time." He turned and walked toward the window before turning around. "I know I don't get to tell you what to do. Even if I did have that right, God help me if I tried. I don't come all the way from downtown to Central Park every other day just for the walk. I didn't spend four months in jail for your thanks or any sort of favor. I did it because, for reasons I still don't understand, I care about you. More than I want to admit."

Amelia bit her lip and looked down. Spot took a few steps from the window toward her. "And I know you feel the same way," he said.

"Don't flatter yourself," said Amelia.

"There's no other explanation to why you would make that many trips and give that many bribes just to sit in a dirty, empty room with me in that refuge. Especially when you had to work for the money to bribe the warden."

It scared Amelia how well he knew her. Or was she just that transparent? She didn't know how, but he hit the nail right on the head. It happened before she even realized it. At some point in that dirty, empty room at the refuge, Amelia had fallen for him. Unlike all her suitors, who would dote on her and try to win her over, Spot challenged her. He pissed her off, and she did the same to him. He drove her crazy, and she loved every minute of it.

She could feel him still standing there, only a few feet away from her, looking at her. He walked over and turned her chair so she was facing him, startling her. He put a hand on the back of the chair and leaned down. She was stuck between him and the vanity.

"Now tell me I'm wrong," he whispered, a smirk on his face. "I dare you."

Amelia looked into his eyes – those eyes she always felt could look right into her very soul. She leaned in and pressed her lips against his and he put his arms around her waist and picked her up.

All the tension built up in the months and months of bickering, insulting, visits to the refuge, him walking her to work, was released in that kiss.

All the jealousy and anger against Rock that Spot had stored up inside of him melted away. She was his now – he knew it and she knew it. Spot knew then and there he would spent the rest of his life making sure nothing bad would ever happened to her again.

It was right. More right than she'd ever felt in any other kiss. Something inside of her changed, never to be reversed. This new feeling could be dwelled upon later, because, for now, she was content to feel lips against hers.

Amelia relaxed into him. All she'd ever wanted was to be able to be herself around a man, to have a man accept her for who she was and still want to keep coming back. She had finally realized she'd had that in Spot Conlon all along.

Amelia pulled back slightly, resting her forehead against his. There were so many things that were left unsaid; that would remain unsaid, because they didn't need to be spoken. "You're wrong," she joked. "I'm just after your money."

Spot laughed and put her down. He smiled down at her and kissed her again.

"I still have to go to work, though," said Amelia.

"Promise me you'll at least look for something else?" Spot asked.

Amelia bit her lip. "I can't," she said.

"You're not gonna even try?"

"It's more complicated than that," she said. She sighed. "Pap borrowed money from a man to help get the business expansion going. He can't pay it back. The man also happens to own the nightclub I work in. He said he would accept my working for him as payment for the debt. I can't leave until it's paid off."

Spot clenched his jaw, angry with her father for putting her in this position. "Who did he borrow money from?" Amelia bit her lip, looking at him. Spot sighed. "Morello?"

Amelia nodded.

"How much longer?" he asked.

"Two years waitressing," said Amelia. "It could be half that if I…" She sighed and shook her head, sitting back down at her vanity.

Spot sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "You're not, right?"

"Of course not!" Amelia frowned. "It was bad enough with Rock, you think I could do it with a stranger?" She finished fixing her hair and make up. When Spot didn't say anything, she looked up at him, seeing him deep in thought. She stood up, pointing at him. "I know that look, Conlon. Don't even think about it."

"It's not fair for you to have to work off your father's debt," said Spot. "But we know how these guys work, if there's a way I could—"

"No," Amelia cut him off, shaking her head. "You're not getting involved with them. You said you would never do it, and I want you to stick by that."

"It would be worth it for you to not have to go down there every night," said Spot.

"See, this is the same kind of stuff that got Skittery involved with them," said Amelia. "He did it for Maggie, and look where it got him. Look where it got her. You want them to kidnap me one day too? Then you'll have to go get Cowboy to help you out when you get in too deep. You stay away from them, Spot. Promise me."

Spot nodded. "I promise."


	15. Chapter 15

_May 1900_

"I have to go."

"Then go," said Spot, his lips pressed against her cheek.

"You're making it awfully difficult."

"Not my problem." He smirked and pulled her closer.

"The girls are gonna be waiting for me." She couldn't help but grin as he slid his arms around her waist and kissed across her cheek.

"Where you girls going?"

"To visit Maggie," said Amelia.

Spot looked at her. "I thought she skipped town."

"She did." Amelia shrugged. "Kind of."

Church bells ran in the distance.

"Okay, I really need to go now," said Amelia, standing on her toes and kissing him once more. "I'm supposed to be meeting them at the trolley stop right now."

"Go, have your girl talk," Spot smirked. "Brag about how good a kisser I am."

"Goodbye, Conceited," she winked and walked off.

Spot chuckled and walked off in the opposite direction.

"You look happy," said Maggie. Maggie tilted her head and looked at her. " _Really_ happy."

"Yeah, she was grinnin' like an idiot the whole trip up here," said Baby. "We have our suspicions, but she's not spilling."

"Where's our little Sofie?" Penny asked.

"She's napping right now," said Maggie. "She's been out for a while, so she'll wake up soon."

"I just can't get enough of her," Penny said.

Amelia grinned over at her. "Someone's caught the baby bug," she said. "Do I need to take Specs shopping for a ring so you two can get married and make me an aunt?"

Penny blushed.

"It would be about time, wouldn't it?" said Baby. "You two have been together a while, haven't you?"

"Almost two years," Penny smiled.

"Want me to start dropping hints for you?" Amelia winked.

"No," said Penny. "But yes."

The girls laughed. "So," said Baby, turning to Amelia. "Why don't you tell us what's going on with you and Spot?"

"What?" asked Amelia. "There's nothing going on between me and Spot."

"Mm-hm," said Penny, raising an eyebrow. "Because even though he moved back to Brooklyn, he still comes here every day."

Amelia shrugged. "He has friends in Manhattan."

"Oh, stop dancing around the question," said Maggie. "Are you seeing Spot?"

"No!" said Amelia.

"You should see the way he looks at her," Penny said to Maggie.

"How does he look at me?" Amelia rolled her eyes.

"Like Specs looks at Penny," said Baby. "Like Race looks at Lily."

"Like Jack looks at Baby," Penny added

Amelia looked down at her hands. She knew how Spot looked at her. She'd seen those looks when she'd visited him in the refuge, when it was just the two of them. When they were alone together, they were just Spot and Amelia – two people who liked each other, none of the snobby-rich-girl and the poor-as-dirt-newsie labels. Amelia wanted to tell the girls about her and Spot – she'd shared everything else about her life with them.

But she couldn't. For some reason, unknown to her, it scared her for other people to find out about them. Did she think it would change who she and Spot were? Was she afraid of word getting back to her parents?

She didn't have time to dwell on her thoughts, because a baby crying broke her train of thought.

"She's awake," said Maggie, going to the bassinet. She pulled out the little bundle that was baby Sofie. Maggie sat back down, rocking Sofie to soothe her.

"Maggie, can we be honest with you?" Penny asked.

"Always," said Maggie.

"We think Skittery deserves to know he has a daughter," said Penny.

Maggie sighed and looked down at Sofie.

"Well, when you put it like that," said Maggie.

"But that's the way it is," said Baby.

Maggie sighed. "It's so much more complicated than him just deserving to know. If he knows, he's going to want to come up here, and things between me and him…"

"You'll work them out," said Penny. "Look, Skittery has had time to accept think through everything that happened between you two. I think you'd both like a second chance to be able to sit down and really talk about what happened."

"He doesn't want to see me," said Maggie, shaking her head.

"Yes he does!" said Baby.

In that moment, Amelia realized that no matter how much their lives had changed since being introduced to the newsies, both her and Maggie hadn't changed. They were both afraid to come out and tell the truth – Maggie with Sofie, and Amelia with Spot.

She also knew that neither of them could keep their secrets forever.

* * *

Baby and Penny stayed to try and continue convincing Maggie to see Skittery, but Amelia began to feel dizzy. The realization that she couldn't bring herself to tell her best friends about her boyfriend made her sick.

Amelia hopped off the trolley and walked down the Brooklyn Bridge until she saw a familiar figure leaning against the railing.

Spot turned and smirked when he saw her walking towards him.

"So when you girls got into the argument about whose boyfriend kisses best, who won?" he smirked.

"Baby," said Amelia. "We all love a man in a cowboy hat."

"Then come here and let's see if I can change your mind," he said, holding onto her waist.

Amelia giggled and leaned up, pressing her lips to his. Any worries she had about anyone finding out about them were immediately pushed to the back of her mind, and the only thing she focused on was the feel of his lips against hers, his arms tight around her waist. He turned her so her back was against the railing, his body flush with hers, leaving no space between them.

"Easy, we're still in public," she mumbled against his lips.

"Ask me if I care," said Spot.

"I do," she said. "The last thing I need is word of this getting back to my father."

Spot pulled back and looked at her. "Well, why don't you just tell him?"

"He'd forbid it. I'd either have to stop seeing you, or run away."

Spot planted his hands on the bridge's railing on either side of her. "I say you just run away," he smirked.

"And do what?" asked Amelia. "We know I have no skills."

"That's not true," said Spot, leaning in to kiss her. "You have that."

Amelia raised her eyebrow. "Be careful there, Conlon. You're awfully close to suggesting I be a prostitute."

"Never," smirked Spot. "I wouldn't want to share you."

Amelia grinned and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling his lips to hers once more. Spot moved his hands from the railing to around her waist, pulling her body to his. The wind blowing over the East River rustled their hair and clothes.

"See, you're not as shallow as you pretend to be," he said, pulling back a fraction of an inch.

"What do you mean?" Amelia tilted her head.

"You'd choose love over money," said Spot. "Or you wouldn't be standing here with me."

Amelia smirked. "You sayin' you love me?"

"I'm sayin' you love me," Spot returned her smirk.

"I think you love me, but you don't want to say it," said Amelia.

"If I did, why wouldn't I say it?" asked Spot.

"Because" she kissed him, "you're the big, bad, Spot Conlon, leader of the Brooklyn newsies," said Amelia, kissing him again. "And he doesn't say the mushy love stuff."

"You're right," said Spot, rubbing the small of her back. "I don't say the mushy love stuff."

"Mm-hm," said Amelia.

"But," said Spot, pulling her closer so they were standing cheek to cheek, and his lips were right next to her ear. "If I weren't…then I might."

Amelia giggled and pulled back. She took his hand as they walked toward Manhattan. "Don't deny it, Conlon, you're in love with me," she said.

"I'm not denying it, I'm just not saying it," he smirked.

"You're impossible." She rolled her eyes but laughed.

"I learned it from you," he said, interlacing their fingers. They walked down the bridge back towards Manhattan.

Amelia was so distracted by Spot that she didn't notice the familiar figure walking towards them on the bridge.

"Amelia?" Rock said.

Amelia looked at him, in shock. "Rock, hi," she said, not sure what to say. "Um…hi."

Rock looked from Amelia to Spot, who put an arm around her. "I know you," he said.

"Yeah, I remember you too," said Spot.

"I see you're finally courting men on your own level," said Rock. "Financial as well as moral."

Amelia bit her lip. "Yeah," said Spot. "She's with one who won't take advantage of her, or leave her for some one richer."

Rock glared at Spot and turned back to Amelia. "Does your father know you're seeing this boy?" He raised an eyebrow.

Amelia hesitated. "Of course," said Amelia, putting on a smile.

Rock laughed. "And he's fine with it?"

"Mm-hm." Amelia nodded.

"Hmm," said Rock. "Well, good day." He continued on his way down the bridge.

Amelia sighed and walked over to the railing, leaning on it.

"You okay?" Spot asked.

"Fine."

"You think he's gonna tell your pop?"

Amelia shook his head. "Doubt it. Pop would probably just think he was lying to get back at Papa for lying about the money."

"So then what's wrong?" Spot asked, putting his arm around her.

"My father." She shook her head.

Spot put both his arms around her and pulled her closer. "If he kicked you out, you could live with the girls at the lodging house and be much closer to me." Spot leaned in and kissed her. "And there'd be much more of this." He leaned in and kissed her again.

Amelia considered rebutting, but decided to let it go and just enjoy being with Spot.


	16. Chapter 16

_May 1900_

Amelia took a cursory look around the nightclub. It was a slow night. Not many patrons in the place, which meant fewer tips, and probably lower wages for the night. She was disappointed to not see Spot. He usually stayed for the first part of her shift on Friday nights – the rowdier nights. He had something to take care of in Brooklyn, so he wasn't able to walk her to work.

The bartender lined the drinks on the bar in front of her and she began moving them to her tray. As she went to grab the last drink, a hand grabbed her wrist. She looked up to see the nightclub's owner looking at her.

"Once you deliver those, you come back right here," he said. "Tonight is the night you start making me more money."

Amelia's heart sank, and her stomach shot up into her throat. "What? No, that wasn't the deal…"

"I don't care what your deal with Morello is. You're my employee and you're gonna make me money."

"But…"

"I know it ain't your first time," said the owner. "But you'll still make me a pretty penny. Now go deliver those drinks."

Amelia swallowed and walked back over to the table and handed out the drinks, getting pinched and groped as she did it. She slowly made her way over to the bar where the owner was waiting for her. He took the tray from her and led her towards the back where the stairs were. A gentleman was standing there waiting.

"Here ya go, Hank," said the owner.

The man offered Amelia his arm and she took it. The owner still had a grip on her other arm. "Make him happy," he growled into her ear. He let her go and gave her a swat on her behind. Amelia's stomach was in knots.

Amelia closed her eyes in humiliation as she climbed the stairs. As she ascended the staircase, she couldn't help but flashback to when Rock would coax and coerce her into hotel rooms. At least he'd had the decency to put a diamond on her finger before trying that. Although whether it was dollar bills or a diamond ring, it was still a tit-for-tat, which made Amelia sick.

They walked down a hall into a large room at the end of the hall.

Suddenly they heard a commotion downstairs.

"Where is she?" Amelia heard Spot's voice.

"She's off makin' me money," she heard the owner's voice.

Amelia rushed to the railing and saw Spot and the owner arguing at the bottom of the stairs. She ran back down the stairs.

"Hey!" the man called as she left him behind.

"Spot!" Amelia called as she got to the bottom of the stairs.

"You all right?" Spot asked, meeting her halfway up. Amelia nodded.

"Boy, you better get out of this club and leave this girl to me. She's mine," said the owner.

"Yeah? Well how would you like me to tell Morello you're abusin' his investment, huh?"

At the mention of Morello's name, the owner froze.

"Uh-huh," said Spot. "That's what I thought. She's comin' with me for tonight."

"You're…you're not going to say anything to Morello, are you?" asked the owner.

"Not if you let us go quietly tonight."

Spot took Amelia's hand and led her out of the club.

"Let's get you home," said Spot, putting his arm around her as they walked out of the neighborhood with purpose.

"You sure have a way of saving me, Conlon."

Spot kissed her head. "I always will, Wakefield."

As they walked, Amelia slowly began to calm down and realize what all had happened and what it meant.

"Oh god," she stopped.

"What?" asked Spot.

"My job," she said. "When I go back tomorrow, he's going to make me do it anyway."

Spot shook his head and kept walking with her. "You're not going back there."

"Spot, I have to."

"Amelia, no," he said firmly. "I'm not going to let you go through that again."

Amelia looked up at him. Spot felt her looking at him and looked down at her. "Thank you," she said.

He put his arm around her and kissed her temple. They continued walking until they finally arrived back at her townhouse.

"I need to go in through the fire escape," said Amelia. "I can't let them hear me come home early."

Spot gave her a hand up the fire escape and he walked her to her window. Amelia opened the window and climbed through. Spot sat outside.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked.

Amelia nodded. "Yeah," she said.

"Okay," said Spot. "I'll be out here if you need me."

"What? No, Spot, you go home. I'll be fine."

"I know you will. But I'm going to stay here, just in case."

Amelia looked at him for a few moments. "Come in," she said, moving to the side. "If you're going to stay here all night anyway, you might as well be warm."

Spot climbed through the window and Amelia shut it behind him.

"You can sleep on the sofa," Amelia gestured to a loveseat that was situated in the corner of the room. She walked into her closet and changed out of her dress and corset and into her nightgown and robe. She walked back out and Spot was sitting on the sofa. She crawled into bed and pulled up the covers. She settled into bed and let out a long exhale.

After a few minutes, Amelia heard the window open a bit and the sound of a match striking. She looked over and saw Spot lighting a cigarette at the window. She got up out of bed and sat next to him. He took a drag off the cigarette.

"You okay?" he asked, blowing the smoke out the window.

Amelia nodded and took the cigarette out of his hand, taking a drag off it and replacing it in his hand. She rested her elbow against the back of the sofa and rested her temple on her knuckles. She looked up to see Spot watching her. After he took a drag, he turned the cigarette around and put it to her lips. She gave him a small smile and took a drag of it before he pulled it back. She turned her head to the window and tried to blow smoke circles. Spot smirked and took a drag, blowing perfect smoke circle out the window.

"Show off," Amelia whispered, a small smirk playing on her lips.

Spot grinned. He offered her the last drag of the cigarette before crushing it against the brick outside of the house. Amelia blew out the window before turning and sitting closer to Spot. He put his arm around her and she rested her head against him, tucking her legs beneath her. The sensation of him rubbing her back lulled her to sleep.

* * *

The sun began to peak through the buildings of the Manhattan skyline, and the cries of newsies echoed through the streets.

There was a loud knock on Amelia's door, followed by the sound of the locked doorknob jiggling. Amelia jerked awake.

"Amelia Grace Wakefield, you open this door right now," called the voice of her father. It took Amelia a minute to realize she wasn't in her bed. She was still on the sofa. She looked over and saw Spot, looking around groggily.

"Uh, I'll be there in just a minute!" Amelia called.

"You have two minutes," said her father. "I know you left work early last night."

Amelia listened to the noise of her father's retreating footsteps. She turned to Spot and whispered, "You have to go."

"No," said Spot, standing up. "I'm gonna talk to him."

"No!" said Amelia, jumping up and standing in front of him. "If you go out there, you're going to get me in much bigger trouble."

"Why? Because he'll know you're seeing a newsie?"

"No," said Amelia. "Because you spent the night in my room."

Spot hesitated. "Good point."

Amelia straightened her robe and tied it. She quietly opened the window the rest of the way.

"I'll meet you at Tibby's later," said Spot. "We'll figure something out."

Amelia nodded. "Thank you for staying last night," she said.

"I gotta make sure my girl is safe," he said, running a finger down her cheek.

Amelia's lips curled into a grin before she realized it. She gave him one last kiss before pushing him towards the window. "You need to go, before he comes back with a key," she said.

Spot crawled out and climbed down the fire escape, careful to avoid being seen through the windows.

Amelia took a deep breath and walked out to face her father.


	17. Chapter 17

_May 1900_

"What did your parents say?" Spot asked.

"Papa was really angry with the owner," said Amelia. "He said the deal had been for me to only do waitressing. Nothing else. But the good news is I don't have to go back there. The bad news is, he has to find some other way to pay the debt."

"Good," said Spot, taking Amelia's hand and intertwining their fingers. "Tell him there's lots of good jobs in north Brooklyn. Or you could just _tell_ him you got a job, and you can sell papes with me."

Amelia laughed. "I am not going to be a newsie."

"Why not?" asked Spot.

"Walking the streets all day in the sun?" Amelia shook her head. "Besides, Papa would make me get a higher paying job once he saw how little I would be bringing home."

"We could always revisit you running away from home and living with the girls. It's his debt, not yours, to repay."

As soon as they rounded the corner, where they could see in the windows to Tibby's, Amelia let go of Spot's hand.

"What?" asked Spot.

"Well, we're gonna be around…" Amelia gestured to the restaurant where their friends were.

Spot shrugged. "Yeah, so?"

"Well, we're…I mean, it'll look like…but…" Amelia stuttered, realizing how stupid she sounded.

Spot frowned. "You don't want to be seen with me around our friends?"

"It's not that," said Amelia. "It's…complicated."

"How?"

Amelia bit her lip. She tried to find the words to explain, but nothing came out.

"It's really not," said Spot. "I'm a poor boy, you're a poor girl, and we like each other. See? Not complicated at all."

Amelia looked up at him with a hurt expression when she heard him refer to her as poor. "I'm not _poor_ ," she said.

"Yeah?" Spot raised an eyebrow. "What do you call some one who has no money?"

Amelia clenched her jaw and slapped him across the face and walked away.

* * *

"Whoa," said Jack, watching Amelia and Spot talking outside Tibby's. "What do you think he said to make her angry?"

"Knowing her, he probably just spoke the truth," said Baby.

Jack chuckled. "It's what we newsies do best."

Spot walked into Tibby's, angry and sat down next to Jack.

"Tough day, Spot?" Jack asked.

"What's wrong with Amelia?" Baby asked.

"She's an arrogant, self-centered, spoiled girl, that's what's wrong with her," Spot replied.

"You're just realizing this now?" Specs raised an eyebrow, earning him a hard elbow in the side from Penny.

* * *

Amelia sat in her room, pretending not to wait. She sat at her vanity, organizing her makeup powders and brushes, waiting for Spot to come to the window and apologize. He would come. Whenever she ever had a disagreement with a man, they would always come back and apologize. It was just a matter of time.

The longer she waited, the more she thought about their tiff at the restaurant. So what if Spot wanted to hold her hand in the restaurant? What was the big deal? Normally she'd be flattered that a man would want to show that she was his.

But these were the newsies. If they knew about her and Spot, then that was it. She was in. She'd be Spot's girl. She couldn't reconcile that with the fact that her father was still trying to get her married off.

The next morning, when Amelia woke up, she fully expected to see Spot at her window, waiting to apologize. When she saw nothing but her fire escape and the view of Central Park, she frowned and got out of bed.

Amelia walked over the bridge into Brooklyn. As soon as she crossed the bridge, it finally occurred to her she had no idea where to find Spot. She had no idea where he sold, where he spent his time, or even where the lodging house was. She'd only ever seen him when he came to Manhattan.

She wandered the streets, finding a Brooklyn newsie fairly quickly.

"Excuse me," said Amelia, walking up to the newsie.

"Buy a pape, lady?" the newsie asked.

"No thanks," said Amelia. "I'm looking for Spot Conlon."

"Buy a pape, lady?" the newsie repeated.

Amelia pulled out a penny and handed it to the newsie, who handed her a paper. "Now, where can I find Spot Conlon?"

"Who wants to know?" the newsie asked. Amelia held up a quarter. The newsie grabbed for it, but Amelia pulled it away.

"Tell me where Spot is first," she said.

"For ten cents more, I'll take you to him."

"Lead the way."

"What's a lady like you doin' lookin' for Spot Conlon?" the newsie asked, beginning to walk. "You're a high-class broad, he's just a Brooklyn newsie."

"He's a friend of mine."

"Oh," said the newsie. "You mean a friend or a _friend_?"

"Just a friend."

"Oh," said the newsie. "Coz I heard Spot had a _friend_ over in 'hattan. Some girl he's always goin' over to see. The guys keep jokin' with him that he spends more time in 'hattan than he does here."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," said the newsie, as they stepped from the concrete to the wood of the docks. "Down there," the newsie pointed toward the end of the docks. Amelia saw Spot reclining on some empty crates, lookin' over the docks. She handed the newsie the coins she'd promised and started walking over to him.

She'd hardly gone four steps before he spotted her. At first he looked surprised, and then frowned. He jumped down.

"What are you doin' here?" he asked.

"You never came to find me," said Amelia.

"Why would I?" asked Spot.

"To apologize," said Amelia, as if it should be obvious.

"Why should I apologize? I wasn't wrong," said Spot.

Amelia was taken aback. She didn't know what to say to that.

"But I'm the woman," said Amelia. "I'm always right."

"Not when you're my woman," said Spot.

"I'm not your—" but Amelia cut herself off.

Spot looked at her. "Aren't you?" He glanced around at a few of the newsies who were watching them. "Come with me." He grabbed her hand and led her off the docks, and down a street.

"What?" Amelia retorted. "Ashamed of being seen with me in front of your newsies?"

"No," said Spot, pulling her around a corner to a small side street. "This just isn't a conversation I want them listening in on. Besides, I think if anyone is ashamed of being seen with anyone, then it's you being ashamed of bein' seen with me. Even in front of the newsies."

"No I'm not," said Amelia. "I'm seen with you at Tibby's all the time."

"But not together," said Spot. "Look, everything that's happened between us has happened with no one else around. Either in your room or in that refuge."

"Because that's the only time you don't act like a jerk," he said.

"I could say the same of you," Spot raised an eyebrow.

Amelia sighed.

"So what is this? Am I just the guy you're slummin' it with when no rich guys are buyin' you diamonds or dresses? Coz if I'm just gonna get jerked around by you until your pop finds you a new fiancé, I'm out.

"You know it's not like that."

"Then what is it?"

"Look, Spot, if we start bringing other people into this, then it's…it's going to be…."

"Just tell me!"

"It's real!"

Spot looked at her for a moment. "Of course it's real."

Amelia paused. "I've never done real before," she said. "You saw me and Rock together. That wasn't real. That was…a sales pitch. I've never been real with anyone before, okay? You're the first and it terrifies me."

"Why?"

"Because it means I could get hurt," she said. "It's already a blow to my ego when gentlemen stop calling on me when I'm the person _they_ want me to be. How do you think I'd feel if _you_ stopped coming to me?"

Spot stepped in closer. "That's never gonna happen," he said. "But you can't just think about yourself. What about me? Wakefiled, you're way outta my league – we both know that. Your pop is still trying to get you married off, so I know one day you're going to have to make the choice between money and me. And that scares the hell outta me. But I'm willing to risk it, because we both know how we feel about each other. No one said this was gonna be easy. That's why we gotta trust each other."

Amelia sighed. "I'm sorry," she said softly, leaning back against the wall. "I'm sorry. I was…wrong." She winced, as if the very word itself had a sour flavor.

"I know the only way you know how to live in public is by deceiving and manipulating, but the only way I know how is to do it honestly," said Spot. "What you see is what you get."

"Careful, or I'm gonna slap you again," said Amelia.

"Good," said Spot. "That means I'm makin' sense."

"If you say you're never going to stop coming to see me, how come you didn't come back after we fought?" she asked.

"I was angry," said Spot. "I needed time to cool off before seeing you again. Remember, just like I piss you off, you piss me off too." Spot leaned in, putting his hand on the wall by her head. "Just because we have a fight doesn't mean I'm going to leave. I still lo—" Spot paused, "like you."

Amelia's lips curved into a smirk. "You almost said love."

"I did not," Spot denied. "What I was saying was, look at us. We're gonna fight. That's just who we are, it's what we're gonna do. But just because we have a fight doesn't mean I'm done with you, okay? But it also doesn't mean I'm going to come right back and make up with you. I'm not like those guys you used to go with."

"You love me," Amelia said, still smirking.

Spot rolls his eyes, but couldn't help but grin a little. "Did you hear what I said _after_ I almost didn't say…that word?"

Amelia nodded. "Yeah," she said.

"Good," said Spot.

Amelia grabbed his collar and pulled him closer to kiss him. Spot stepped in closer, moving his hand from the wall to the back of her neck.

"Now," said Spot, pulling his lips away, but resting his forehead against hers. "What do you say about meeting my newsies?"

"Really?" asked Amelia.

Spot nodded. "They're curious about who's got me always going across the bridge," he smirked. "And I'm sure they're curious, after you stormed onto the docks like that."

Amelia grinned. "Okay."

Spot took her hand and they turned the corner once more, walking to where the street ended and the docks began. Spot led her to a group of newsies who were sitting around – some playing cards, some practicing with slingshots, others drying off from swimming.

"Hey fellas," said Spot.

Various greetings of "Hey Spot" came from the group.

"This here's Amelia. Amelia, these are some of the newsies. That's Flint, Slugger, Ice, and Mikey."

"Nice to meet you all," Amelia waved at them.

"This the broad you've been seein' all this time?" asked Flint.

"Yeah," said Spot. "And you can call her 'Amelia,' or nothin' at all – not 'the broad.'" The other newsies chuckled.

Amelia bit her lip to avoid smirking.

"You look familiar," said Mikey.

"I doubt it," said Amelia. "I don't come to Brooklyn very often."

"No, I see it too," said Flint. "Wasn't you in the papes a while ago? I remember your face, coz I was tellin' Slugger that I—"

Spot loudly clearing his throat cut him off. Spot had a good idea what Flint might have said about Amelia – the same things he said about any woman he saw – but he didn't want Amelia hearing any of them.

"Sorry, Spot," said Flint. "But you do look familiar."

"Well," said Amelia, glancing at Spot. Amelia remembered her engagement announcement had been in the paper with a picture with Rock. She also remembered a humiliating article on her and Rock's break up in the Society section.

"Now I remember," said Mikey. "You're the broad – sorry, Spot – you're the lady we saw with that rich guy when we went to Manhattan a while ago. The one that fainted in Tibby's."

Amelia nodded. "That's me. The fainting broad from the papes."

"Are you a newsie too?" Slugger asked.

"No, dummy," said Flint. "She's a rich girl. Rich girls are in the papes, they don't sell them."

"Way to go, Spot, got yourself a rich girl!" Ice grinned.

Spot just rolled his eyes. "Maybe it wasn't such a great idea to introduce all of you."

Amelia shrugged. "They're no worse than Specs. At least they don't hate me…yet."

"I don't think I could hate a broad – sorry, Spot – a dame like you," Flint winked at her.

Spot opened his mouth to say something, but Amelia beat him to it. "You keep lookin' at me like I'm a piece of meat, and I'll give you a reason to hate me," she said.

Spot smirked and the rest, except Flint, laughed.

"She got you, Flint!" Mikey laughed.

A newsie walked onto the docks and walked up to Spot.

"Hey Spot, we got a problem," he said.

"What is it, Boxer?" Spot asked.

"Some of our guys are still bein' pushed out of their sellin' spots by the Flatlands boys," said Boxer.

"You do what I told you to do?" Spot asked. Boxer nodded. "Okay. I'll go down there myself for the afternoon edition."

Boxer nodded again and walked away.

"And with that, we'll see you clowns later," said Spot. He and Amelia turned around and walked back towards Manhattan. "Sorry about them."

"I kind of like them," she grinned.

"You do?"

"Sure. They're fun, goofy…"

"Don't let that get around," Spot winked. "We've got a reputation, you know."

Amelia chuckled. "And I can tell they respect you."

Spot shrugged.

"So what's going on with the guys in Flatlands?" she asked.

"Just newsies bickering over sellin' spots," said Spot. "Boxer's usually good about settlin' those things, but sometimes I need to step in. It's not a big deal."

Spot walked her to the bridge. Amelia turned to him. "I can walk the rest of the way from here."

Spot frowned. "You don't want me to walk you home?"

"No, I do," she said. "But you spend a lot of time with me." She nodded towards Brooklyn. "You go be with your boys now."

"You sure?"

Amelia grinned and nodded.

Spot smiled and leaned in, giving her a goodbye kiss. "I'll come see you tomorrow."

"Just imagine the looks on their faces when we walk into Tibby's together," Amelia chuckled.

* * *

The next day when they walked hand in hand into Tibby's you could have heard a pin drop.


	18. Chapter 18

_May 1900_

"So how long as this been going?" Specs asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, looking appraisingly at Spot and Amelia. They were sitting across from him at Tibby's, holding hands.

Amelia smirked. Specs had been acting more and more big brotherly lately, and she kind of enjoyed it.

"But, really, how long?" asked Penny. "Because we're all curious."

Amelia and Spot looked at each other. "Um…about two months, I guess," said Amelia.

"I knew it!" said Baby, triumphantly. "I knew you were seein' some one good." She looked at Spot. "She always had this dopey grin whenever it was just us girls, but she wouldn't tell us why."

Spot smirked over at Amelia, who just shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"And what does Father Wakefield have to say about this?" asked Specs.

Amelia averted her gaze.

"Oh, we don't talk about that," Spot said, giving Amelia a pointed look.

Specs looked at Amelia. "You think he's not going to find out eventually?"

"Can we talk about something else?" she snapped.

* * *

"Amelia? Amelia?" Spot asked, waving his hand in front of her face.

"What? Oh, sorry," she said, snapping out of her trance.

"You okay?" Spot asked. "You've seemed a little lost since Tibby's."

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"What were you thinkin' so hard about?" he asked.

"They're trying to find me a husband again," said Amelia, looking out over the river. "Papa said that since I'm not working at the club anymore, efforts were better made finding me a husband. They're doubling their efforts in hopes of not losing all the money they put into the original wedding."

"Wasn't that supposed to happen soon?"

Amelia nodded. "June 24."

"If your parents are so eager to get you married off, why not me?" asked Spot.

Amelia barked out a laugh. "You?"

"What?"

" _You_? Married?"

Spot smirked. "Sure, why not?"

"I don't know, I guess I never thought of you as the marrying type," she said.

Spot shrugged. "I mean, married isn't much more than what we're doin' now, only we'd get to live together, and change your last name."

"There's a little more to marriage than that," said Amelia, chuckling.

Spot smirked and pulled her closer, leaning down and kissing below her ear. "You're right," Spot said, kissing her neck. "I left out the best part."

Amelia light slapped his shoulder. "Spot!" she blushed.

"Oh come on, tell me I'm wrong," he grinned. "Besides, what did you expect would happen to us one day?"

Amelia opened her mouth to answer, only to find she had no answer.

Spot's grin faded the longer she stayed silent. "Were you just biding your time with me until they found you a husband?" Spot asked.

"No!" said Amelia. "No, I just…I guess I never really thought about it."

"Don't lie to me, Wakefield," said Spot. "After your first stroll in the park with Rock, you were thinking of baby names that would go with 'Rockefeller.' I know you think things through."

Amelia sighed and looked out over the river. "I've tried not to think this through, because I could never think of a scenario where we…" she felt a lump rise in her throat. She couldn't finish the sentence.

Spot clenched his fist and looked out over the river. "You don't think we're going to make it?" he asked. "Is that what you're tellin' me?"

Amelia hesitated, but nodded.

"Damn it, Wakefield," he said. "After all we been through?"

Amelia wiped away the tears that had already fallen. "It's not up to me, Spot," she said. "My parents—"

Spot frowned. "What? I'm not good enough to be with you?"

"Not to _them_ ," said Amelia.

"What about to you?" Spot asked.

"You _know_ how I feel about you," said Amelia.

"Then what have you got to lose?"

"I can't marry you," said Amelia.

Spot took a step back, anger masking his hurt. "Give me one good reason why."

Amelia scoffed. "One: my parents would never allow it. Two: we have nowhere to live. Three: we have no money. Four: the name 'Spot' doesn't exactly belong on a marriage license. Five—"

"Is that all you care about? Money?" said Spot.

"No," said Amelia. "But it's kind of a necessity."

"I would make sure we had enough," said Spot, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I'd do whatever it took to take care of you." There was seriousness in his eyes and tone that she hadn't seen before.

"My parents would never let that happen," she said.

"Fine," said Spot. "But answer me this. Do you _want_ to? Not 'would your parents allow it' or 'is it possible.' But do you _want_ to marry me?"

"I don't have a choice."

Spot leaned in closer to her. "That's your parents talking. I want to hear what _you_ want. You. The girl who came to visit me in the refuge. The girl who likes spending time with the Brooklyn newsies. The girl I love."

Amelia's breath caught in her throat when she heard him say it. She bit her lip and looked up at him. She felt the lump in her throat and her heart pounding in her ears.

She nodded. "Yeah," she whispered. "I do."


	19. Chapter 19

_May 1900_

Amelia sat on the docks with some of the younger Brooklyn newsies, watching them play jacks.

"Who'd you guys steal those from?" Spot asked, as he sat down next to Amelia.

"Amelia gave them to us," said one of them.

Spot looked at Amelia who shrugged. "They were mine when I was younger. I don't need them anymore."

Spot grinned at her and she nudged him.

Mikey walked up to them. "Hey Spot, we got a little problem," Mikey said, nodding to a young boy sitting.

"Again?" Spot asked. Mikey nodded. Spot stood up. "I'll take care of it."

"What's going on?" Amelia asked.

Mikey sat where Spot had been sitting. "We've been having trouble with that kid stealing from all the guys in the lodging house." Amelia raised her eyebrows and watched Spot talk to the kid. "Spot's usually the only one he'll listen to."

"Spot seems to have to solve a lot of problems around here," she said.

"Yeah, he's good at that," said Mikey. "Always has been."

"How long have you known him?"

"Ever since his family moved onto my block."

Spot had never mentioned a family. It was then she realized she knew nothing about Spot's past.

"His family?"

Mikey nodded. "Well, when he _had_ a family. He ran away from home before I did. When my folks died, I knew the first thing to do was to find Spot. I knew he'd help me out. He was the youngest guy in the lodging house when I finally joined up with him again. He's been here the longest – longer even than some of the older guys."

Amelia looked over and saw Spot squatting next to a young boy. Seeing him talk to a younger boy like that stirred something inside her. The sort of feeling any girl gets when she sees her man with young kids – the thought that maybe, someday, their own children were in her future. She shook her head, knowing such a future was impossible for them, and she didn't want to dwell on it, knowing the desire would grow stronger.

She saw him talk to the boy for a couple minutes, then the boy put something in Spot's hand, and Spot dug into his own pocket and hand the boy a few coins. He patted the boy on the shoulder and stood up and walked away.

"Give this back to Ice," said Spot, handing the object to Mikey. "He's probably off fuming somewhere."

Mikey nodded and left.

"Ready to head back?" Spot asked.

Amelia nodded and stood up, taking his hand.

"Enjoy the jacks, boys," she said over her shoulder as she and Spot walked off. "Mikey told me that boy was stealing from the others."

"Yeah," said Spot. "I told him the next time he needs somethin' to just come to me. If he steals again, he's out of the house."

"You gave him money."

"He needed it," said Spot. "He doesn't steal because it's fun, or he likes it. He doesn't sell a lot of papes, so sometimes he has trouble making ends meet."

"Mm," Amelia nodded. She thought back to what Mikey told her. "Mikey also said you two grew up together."

Spot nodded. "Yeah, we moved onto his block after my pop remarried."

Amelia looked at him, expecting him to tell the rest of the story. "That's it?" she asked.

Spot shrugged. "What else do you want to know?"

"Everything," said Amelia. "I don't know anything about you before you became a newsie. Why did your dad get remarried? Why did you run away?"

Spot sighed as they began to cross the bridge. He walked over to the railing and leaned on it, looking out over the river. "When I was a kid, my ma died giving birth to my little brother. He didn't make it either. After a year or so, my pop remarried and we moved into a new tenement on Mikey's block. My stepmom didn't really like me. I was sort of a trouble maker," he smirked.

"No," Amelia grinned. "I can't believe that."

Spot chuckled and put his arm around her. "After another couple years, my pop died in a factory explosion. My stepmom was so mad about being left with me. I knew it was just a matter of time before she sent me off to an orphanage or somewhere she didn't have to deal with me, so I just ran away."

"How old were you?"

"Nine."

"You've been on your own since you were nine?"

Spot nodded.

"Wow." Amelia shook her head, looking over the river.

"But not anymore," he smirked, pulling her closer. "Now I've got you. And you want to marry me." He winked.

Amelia looked at him, her throat tightening. "I do want to."

"We can, you know." He turned to face her. "Just leave. Leave tonight. I'll help you. We'll tell the girls to leave their door unlocked, and after your parents are asleep tonight, you can pack a bag, and I'll be waiting in the alley next to your place."

"Spot…"

"You want to, I know you do," said Spot. "You spend more of your time with newsies than doing anything else. The Brooklyn guys like you, you're best friends with the Manhattan girls, you and I can sell papes here on the bridge every day."

Amelia felt something in her brain click. She looked up at him and nodded. "Yes."

Spot froze, his expression turning hopeful. "Wait…yes? Really?"

Amelia smiled and nodded. "I don't want to leave home, but I'm going to talk to Papa about you when I get home. I'm going to be honest."

Spot beamed and hugged her tightly, lifting her off the ground. "I'm proud of you, Wakefield."


	20. Chapter 20

_June 1900_

Amelia sat at her vanity, putting her hair up. Once her hair was pinned back, she went about putting powder on her face and neck. The powder hid all the evidence that she'd spent all night and all morning crying.

* * *

 _"Papa, there's something I want to talk to you about," Amelia said, wringing her hands, standing in the doorway of his study._

 _"Sure, princess," said her father. "There's something I need to talk to you about too." Amelia walked in and sat down in a chair across from him at his desk. "I have some good news."_

 _"What?" asked Amelia._

 _"You're familiar with the Vanderbilts, of course," said her father. Amelia nodded. "Well, it just so happens their son Glenn is coming by the house tomorrow to take you out."_

 _"What?" asked Amelia, her heart sinking._

 _"Isn't it exciting?" her father beamed. "Yesterday I managed to close a business deal with his father, and we are back in business! And what better way to celebrate a successful business deal than with, oh, say, a wedding?"_

 _"Wedding?" Amelia asked, feeling lightheaded. This time she knew it wasn't the corset._

 _"What is it you wanted to talk to me about, dear?" her father asked._

 _"Papa, I don't want to go out with Glenn," said Amelia._

 _"What?" her father frowned._

 _"There's this boy I've been seeing," said Amelia. "I really like him, Papa. He's…wonderful."_

 _"Who is he?" asked her father, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms._

 _"A…Mr. Conlon," she said._

 _"Mm-hm, and what's his business?" asked her father._

 _"He's in newspaper," she said._

 _"Hmm," said her father. "No Conlons own papers in this city."_

 _"He doesn't own a paper per se," said Amelia. "But he is in…distribution."_

 _Her father looked at her. "Princess, if he doesn't own something, he's beneath us."_

 _Amelia frowned. "He's not beneath us," she said. "And since when is anyone beneath us? We could barely buy food last week."_

 _"Well, now that we're back in business, we are refurnishing our house, and soon will be back to where we used to be. Glenn will be here tomorrow, and you will go on a walk with him. End of discussion."_

 _"But Papa—"_

 _"No buts, Amelia," said her father. "After all your mother and I have given to you, you will do your part in this family. Do you want to see us in the poorhouse again?"_

 _"No, Papa…"_

* * *

Amelia found the tears rolling down her face once more. She dabbed them away and fixed her make-up.

"Well don't you look fancy today," said a voice from her window. She looked over and saw Spot sitting on the fire escape.

She sighed and stood up. "You can't be here, Spot," she said.

"Why not?" asked Spot, opening the window wider so he could crawl through it.

"No," said Amelia, pushing him back you. "You need to leave. Just go."

"What's going on, Amelia?" asked Spot. "What did your pop say?"

"Just leave." Amelia felt the tears begin to stream from her eyes once more.

"What's wrong?" Spot asked, getting worried. "Tell me."

"I can't."

"We're gettin' married. You can tell me."

"We're not getting married," said Amelia. "I only said I wanted to. I never said I _would_."

Spot frowned. "What does that mean?"

Amelia closed the window and shut the curtains. Sobs racked her body. She couldn't tell Spot. She knew if she told him, he would convince her to run away with him, or he'd muscle into the house and go to her father. Best to leave him in the dark.

She heard angry footsteps descend the fire escape.

Amelia sat back at her vanity and finished applying her make up. There was a knock at her door.

"Darling, he's here," said her mother.

Amelia stood up and walked out of her bedroom, down the empty hallway, and to the landing of the stairs. In the foyer, her father stood talking to a handsome young man, wearing a light grey suit. She took a deep breath (or as deep a breath she could, with how tight her mother had tied her corset) and descended the stairs.

"Mr. Vanderbilt, this is my daughter, Amelia," said her father. "Amelia, this is Glenn Vanderbilt, of _the_ Vanderbilts."

Amelia put on a charming smile. "Mr. Vanderbilt, such a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she said, extending her hand. Glenn smiled and planted a light kiss on her knuckles.

"Likewise, Miss Wakefield," he said. "May I escort you on a walk around the Park?"

"You may," she smiled. He offered her his arm and they walked out the door.

Spot stood, leaning on the corner of her building and watched Amelia walk out on the arm of another man, easily ten years her senior. Anger and jealousy burned inside him. He turned around and stormed off.

* * *

One week later, Spot stormed into Tibby's, a crumpled paper in his hand. He marched right to Specs, and leaned in. "Did you know about this?" Spot asked angrily, holding up the paper.

"No," said Specs, putting his hands up. "I swear I didn't."

"It must've happened fast, because none of us did," said Penny.

Spot threw the paper down and sat down in a chair.

"What's going on?" Lily asked. She picked up the paper and read it.

The headline screamed, **Wakefield Heiress to Marry Vanderbilt**. There was a picture of Amelia and Glenn.

"This explains it," said Spot. "All week she's been shutting me out. She keeps the window closed, she hasn't been downtown. She hasn't left the house when she's not on the arm of that guy."

"You knew about him?" Penny asked Spot.

"I saw them together once," Spot replied to Penny.

"Come on." Specs stood up.

"Where?" asked Spot.

"Talk some sense into my sister." Spot and Specs walked out of the restaurant.

"Oh my god," said Lily, picking up the paper.

"What is it?" Race asked.

"That's my boss," said Lily.

The group got quiet. "What?" asked Baby.

"That's my boss," said Lily, pointing to Glenn's picture.

"The guy who owns the Gramercy Park house?" Race asked. Lily nodded.

"So if he's your boss, and Amelia is marrying him," said Penny. "That means…"

"Amelia is going to be my boss."

* * *

"Amelia, Henry is here!" called her Mother.

Amelia closed her eyes and sighed. She knew she'd have to face him at one point. She walked out of her room and down the stairs.

Specs stood in the foyer, talking to their mother. He was all smiles and hugs with her, but he turned ice cold as soon as he faced Amelia.

"Hello, Amelia," he said.

"Hello, Henry," she reciprocated his cold tone.

"I hear congratulations are in order," said Specs.

"Thank you," said Amelia.

"I didn't say congratulations, I just said I heard they were in order," said Specs.

Amelia rolled her eyes.

"Children, behave," said their mother. "Henry, why don't you come visit with me in the parlor, and we'll leave them alone."

"Who?" asked Amelia.

Specs nodded behind Amelia and walked off with his mother.

Amelia turned around and, for the first time, saw Spot standing, leaning against the wall.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, slight panic in her voice. "You need to leave. You can't be here." She turned and headed back up the stairs.

"Nope, not this time," said Spot, grabbing her arm and pulling her back.

"Let go of me, Spot," she said.

"No," said Spot, grabbing a hold of her by the waist. "Not until you explain what the hell is going on."

"No," said Amelia, pushing him away. "You need to leave now."

"Listen," said Spot, pinning her between him and the railing. "You can't just walk away from me…not after all we been through. You told me you wanted to marry me. "

"Yeah, well, we don't always get what we want in life," she said, her voice cracking. "You and I both know that too well."

"But this time we can," said Spot. "All you need to do is walk out that door with me. It's five steps away."

Amelia shook her head, tears filling her eyes. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"It's complicated."

"I'm sure I can keep up."

"Spot, please just leave." Tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"Amelia," he said, his voice softening. He cupped her face. "Just tell me what's going on. Whatever it is, we can get through it together."

"Excuse me," said a voice from the door. "What are you doing to my fiancé?"

Spot and Amelia turned and saw Glenn standing at the door.

"Glenn," said Amelia, putting a charming smile on and pushing Spot away. She hastily wiped her tears away. "So wonderful to see you, darling." She walked up to him and gave him a kiss.

"Ah, Glenn, I thought I heard your voice," said her mother, walking back into the room with Henry.

"Mrs. Wakefield, you look more and more beautiful every time I see you," Glenn bowed slightly and kissed her hand. Amelia pushed Spot away from her.

"Such a charmer," her mother chuckled.

"Darling, this is my brother, Henry," said Amelia. "Henry, this is my fiancé, Glenn Vanderbilt."

"Vanderbilt," Spot said, nodding. Everyone turned and looked at him. "Of _the_ Vanderbilts, I'm assuming." Spot was looking right at Amelia.

"As a matter of fact, yes," said Glenn. "And you are?"

"Oh, Glenn, darling, this is…uh…"

"Patrick," said Spot, holding his hand out. "Patrick Conlon."

"Patrick," Amelia whispered to herself.

"Nice to meet you," Glenn nodded.

"We were just leaving. Congratulations, Glenn." Spot looked at Amelia, who was avoiding his gaze. "I hope you can give her everything she wants."

Amelia closed her eyes, feeling his words pierce right through her heart.


	21. Chapter 21

_June 1900_

"Miss Amelia, there are two young women here to see you," the maid said, knocking on her door.

"Show them to the sitting room," said Amelia, wiping the tears off her cheeks. "I'll be right down."

Amelia walked over to her vanity and sat down, looking at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying. She put some powder on to try and cover up any evidence of crying.

Lately she'd taken to crying all the time. She missed Spot terribly, and she kept replaying their last interaction over and over in her mind. The look of longing in his eyes when he asked her to come away with him. The look of hurt when she kept refusing. The anger in his eyes when Glenn came in.

* * *

Amelia walked downstairs into the parlor. Baby and Penny were in the sitting room.

"Hi girls," Amelia said, sadly.

"Hey," said Baby, standing up to give her a hug. "We haven't seen you around lately. We wanted to come up and make sure everything was okay."

"You read the papers," said Amelia, sitting in a chair across from the sofa Penny and Baby were on.

"Yeah," said Penny.

"Then you know why," said Amelia. "I can't come see you guys anymore. It wouldn't be appropriate for a Vanderbilt's wife to always be seen hanging around…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

"That was a fast engagement," said Penny. "You only met him, what, a couple weeks ago?"

Amelia shrugged. "Papa didn't want to lose the money he put in reserving the church for the date we'd set when I was going to marry Rock."

"Why are you doin' this, Amelia?" Baby asked.

"I don't have a choice," said Amelia.

"Yes you do," said Baby. "You could walk out that door with us right now. Just walk away."

"They'll bring me back," said Amelia.

"Not if they can't find you," said Baby. "You could hide out in Brooklyn. Queens. Harlem. We have friends all over the place. We could make sure they'd never find you. Spot would take you back in an instant if you just came with us."

Amelia felt her chest tighten at the mention of Brooklyn. She closed her eyes, willing herself not to tear up. "How is he?" Amelia asked softly.

"Not good," said Baby. "You really did a number on him."

Amelia crumbled into sobs. "I miss him so much."

Penny moved and put her arm around Amelia. "I know you do. Come with us."

"I can't." She shook her head.

Baby and Penny shared a look. "Amelia, do you remember all those hours we spent trying to convince Maggie to go back to Skittery?"

"That was different."

"How?"

"Maggie had a choice. I don't."

"Yes you do!"

Amelia sighed. "Fine. Then call me a phony, call me a fraud. I'm choosing the easy way out. The way where I don't get disowned by my family and I'm not living in poverty."

* * *

 _"I don't have a choice," said Amelia._

 _"Yes you do," said Baby. "You could walk out that door with us right now. Just walk away."_

 _"They'll bring me back," said Amelia._

 _"Not if they can't find you," said Baby. "You could hide out in Brooklyn. Queens. Harlem. We have friends all over the place. We could make sure they'd never find you. Spot would take you back in an instant if you just came with us."_

 _Amelia bit her lip, knowing this was the moment of decision. It was now or never. When it came down to it, it really was a no brainer. Her parents weren't home. If they slipped out of the parlor, no one would be the wiser._

 _"Let's go." Amelia stood up and led the girls out of the parlor, into the foyer, and out the door. They hopped on the first trolley down town._

 _Spot was sitting inside Tibby's when they got off the trolley. He saw her through the window and immediately raced outside. Amelia had barely halved the distance between the trolley stop and the restaurant when Spot caught up to her, holding her tightly in his arms._

 _"I knew you'd come back. I knew you'd choose me."_

 _"Don't get the wrong idea, I'm only here because you kiss better than him."_

 _"I'm not gonna argue with that." He tilted her chin to look up at him and leaned in to kiss her._

* * *

Amelia's eyes opened. She looked around. She wasn't standing in front of Tibby's; she was in her bed. The light outside was purple with the first signs of dawn.

Why did she have to wake up? Why couldn't she have stayed in that dream forever? In the dream it felt so right. She hadn't been scared in the dream – she had known once she was with Spot, he was going to stay with her forever and never leave her. He would've taken care of her, while at the same time pushing her to be more than she was.

The tears came again. She sobbed into her pillow until the sun shone through her curtains and the birds began to sing.

* * *

"Spot, she still loves you," said Baby.

Spot shrugged, taking a drag off his cigarette. "Doesn't matter anymore, does it?" He stared out over the East River at Manhattan.

"Go talk to her," she said.

"I've tried," said Spot. "She's made up her mind. Amelia Wakefield is going to do what she wants to do, which is all she's ever done."


	22. Chapter 22

_June 23, 1900_

The night before the wedding, Amelia sat on the sofa in her room, smoking a cigarette out the window. She blew smoke rings, fondly remembering the night Spot stayed with her on that sofa.

She looked in the corner of the room where her wedding dress was hanging up. She chewed on her lip, thinking about her future. Her future without Spot. Without the newsies. Without Baby and Penny and the other girls. Without Maggie. Without Henry. She exhaled, feeling the tears roll down her cheeks.

Thinking about the look in Spot's eye when he'd left the last time reminded her of the look she saw in Skittery's eye when he knew Maggie wasn't coming back.

* * *

 _"Glenn proposed," Amelia said, still in shock, walking into the parlor where her parents were sitting._

 _"Sweetie, that's wonderful!" her mother smiled, standing up._

 _"Fantastic!" her father beamed._

 _"Papa, I don't love him," she said._

 _"You will learn to," he said._

 _"But Papa, there's another boy," she started._

 _"Not the newsie," her father sighed, rolling his eyes._

 _"But I love him," she said._

 _"Love doesn't last," said her father. "Money…now that will last."_

 _She frowned at her father. "Your entire life up to this point flies in the face of that statement," she said. "Look and you and Mama. And look at you and your money."_

She chewed on her lip, considering her next action very seriously. She walked over to her vanity and opened the drawer that kept her stationery. She addressed an envelope and set it aside. She took a deep breath and began writing her last letter as Amelia Wakefield.

* * *

 _June 24, 1900_

The church had five hundred people seated inside. Each pew had a bouquet of white flowers adorning the side. The altar was draped in white, and the priest stood at the front with the groom and five groomsmen. Five bridesmaids, whom Amelia hardly knew, slowly made their way down the aisle to Pachbel's Canon in D.

Amelia stood at the back with her father. She felt as if her corset was suffocating her. She had a bouquet of white cascading lilies and a dress that cost more than every newsie in the city could make in a lifetime.

Her father walked up to her and took her arm. "He's a good man," he told her.

"I know," said Amelia.

Her father tilted her chin so she could look him in the eye. "You will learn to love him," he said.

"Okay," said Amelia, shrugging.

They heard the congregation stand up, giving them the cue to begin their walk.

The whole ceremony passed by in a blur for Amelia. Everyone in the audience looked at this as a joyous occasion, but Amelia knew she was signing her life away. She'd never be anonymous again. Everywhere she went people would recognize her as a Vanderbilt. No more dinners at Tibby's. No more visiting with the girls at their lodging house. Who knows if she'd ever see Henry again, and Spot…

She dutifully repeated the vows and said the "I do," and slipped Glenn's ring onto his finger. At the priest's word, he pulled her in for a kiss and they walked down the aisle. To any member of the audience, Amelia was a happy, grinning bride, but on the inside, she felt like she was dying with every step.

Glenn walked her out of the church, where a carriage was waiting. Glenn opened the carriage door for her and she got in. When she looked out the window of the carriage to the other side of the street, she saw Specs and Spot standing, watching her. Her heart caught in her throat when she locked eyes with Spot. Her vision blurred with the tears that filled her eyes. She turned away to dab them.

"Are you okay?" Glenn asked.

"Yes," said Amelia, putting a smile on. "I'm just…so happy."

Glenn smiled and gave instructions to the driver to take them to the reception. When Amelia looked back out the window, she saw Specs say something to Spot and walk away. Spot took one last drag off his cigarette, blew a few smoke circles, threw the cigarette down and walked away.

"I love you," she whispered, realized that was the first time she'd ever said those words to Spot, and he couldn't even hear her.

* * *

The next morning, a picture of the wedding party was on every front page in the city.

"You think she's happy?" Baby asked, reading the paper at Tibby's.

"You know she's not," said Penny. "She's miserable. She can't be herself for the rest of her life, and she's without Spot."

"How's he doin' with the news?" Baby asked.

"Miserable," said Jack. "But you know Spot, that just translates into angry all the time. All. The. Time."

"Looks like it was quite the wedding," said Baby.

"It was," said Specs. "Spot and I stood outside the church."

The girls snapped their heads towards Specs. "Did she see you?" Penny asked.

Specs nodded. "She's miserable," he said.

* * *

That night, the boys were hanging around the lodging house.

"We got some mail, boys," said Kloppman.

"Mail?" asked Jack, who was playing poker with Spot. "Who would write to anyone here?"

"There's a Fifth Avenue return address," said Kloppman.

Specs stood up. "Let me see it," he said.

"Nope," said Kloppman pulling it back. "It's addressed to Skittery."

"Me?" asked Skittery, looking up from his cards.

Kloppman held out the envelope to him. Skittery took it and looked at it.

"It's from Amelia," he said, tearing it open. Spot's head shot up. Skittery took out the folded letter and began to read it.

 _Skittery,_

 _I hope this letter finds you quickly and well. You and I have never gotten along very well, but I feel like you deserve to know the truth. It is none of my business telling you this, but if the past two months have taught me anything, it is that there is no replacement for true love. Nothing could ever replace the one person who fills your life with joy._

 _You and I both know that for you, that person is Maggie. As some one who knows her very well, I promise you, she is the same girl you fell in love with, whether or not you think so. Give her another chance – I think you'll be pleasantly surprised._

 _If you go to Harlem, there's a WCTU refuge attached to a church near St. Nicholas Park. Baby or Penny can help you find it. Go there and ask for Maggie – you'll find her. When you see her, there will need to be a lot of explaining on her part. Be patient with her. Listen to her. Above all, seriously consider bringing her back into your life. I promise you won't regret it._

 _If I can't be happy, I at least want her to be…and you._

 _Take care of them both,_

 _Amelia Wakefield_

Skittery looked up at Baby and Penny. "What is this?" he asked.

Baby and Penny exchanged a look. Baby stood up and read the letter. She sighed. "Oh boy," she said, rubbing her temple. She gave Penny a look and nodded

"What does it mean 'both of them?'" he asked.

"I think you should go to Harlem and find out," said Penny.

"Forget it," said Skittery, heading up to the bunkroom. "I don't want to know. She's probably just pulling something and has suckered Amelia into it."

Baby sighed and set the letter down. Spot picked it up and read through it.

"You all right, Spot?" Jack asked.

"Yeah," said Spot, putting the letter down and going on with the poker game.


	23. Chapter 23

_June 1900_

The carriage pulled up to a house in Gramercy Park. Glenn stepped out and helped Amelia out of the carriage.

"I still don't understand why you insist on staying in the city," said Glenn. "I think you would be much more comfortable in the Long Island house."

"Just for a while," said Amelia. "I've only ever lived in the city. I think I'll be comfortable staying in Manhattan, at least for a time."

"Whatever you want," Glenn smiled and kissed her. He walked up to the house and opened the door.

The butler had the household staff lined up in the foyer. Amelia looked down the line, until he eyes came to rest on Lily. Amelia froze.

Glenn rattled off the named of his valet, the butler, the cook, the gardener, and the housekeeper – Lily.

"You can hire your own lady's maid, if you wish," said Glenn. "For now, Lily can assist you. Lily? Please show Mrs. Vanderbilt around the house and grounds and help her get settled in. The gentlemen will bring her cases upstairs."

"Yes, sir," said Lily.

Glenn turned to Amelia. "I need to get to the office, but I will be home for dinner."

"Of course, darling," Amelia smiled. Glenn gave her a kiss and walked out of the house.

"Mrs. Vanderbilt, if you'll come with me…" said Lily.

Amelia watched Glenn leave and followed Lily down the hall while the rest of the staff dissipated.

"This is the parlor," Lily said, leading her into a room that faced the street.

Amelia looked behind her to make sure no one was watching and she pulled Lily into the parlor.

"Since when do you work here?" she whispered.

"I've worked here for two years," Lily whispered back.

"Why do I not know this?" Amelia asked.

Lily shrugged. "I work up here whenever he stays here. Which looks like it will be a lot more often, since you're here"

Amelia bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Lily."

"Don't be," said Lily. "The money is better here than sellin' papes."

"You think Glenn will let you be my lady's maid?" Amelia asked. "I mean, if you want the job."

"I think Mr. Vanderbilt will give you whatever you want," Lily chuckled.

"I really need a friend right now," said Amelia. "I'm really glad you're here. Call me selfish, but I don't want to go through this alone."

Lily gave her a small smile. "Come on, I'll show you the rest of the house."

At the end of the day, Lily walked to the corner where Race always met her.

"Hey doll," he smiled giving her a kiss.

"Hi," she smiled. "I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"Bad news," said Race.

"I won't be selling papes with you anymore," said Lily.

"What's the good news?" Race frowned.

"I'm working every day at the Vanderbilt house _and_ I got a raise," she beamed.

"That's fantastic!" Race grinned, picking her up in a hug. "What brought this one?"

"Amelia and Mr. Vanderbilt are going to live at the Gramercy Park house full time," she said, beginning to walk. "And Amelia wanted me as her lady's maid, so that's where the raise came from."

"What's a lady's maid?" Race asked.

"I do whatever she needs me to do. Help her get dressed, follow her around, run errands for her…" Lily shrugged. "But with this new money, we can save up for a really great life."

Race grinned and gave her a kiss.


	24. Chapter 24

_July 1900_

Skittery wandered around, selling papes. His heart wasn't in it, so by the time he'd wandered up to Harlem, he still had half a stack in his hands.

"What am I doin' here," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. He knew he was just setting himself up for heartbreak again. He wandered around Harlem until he found St. Nicholas Park. He searched all around it for the women's refuge Amelia had mentioned in her letter.

After asking three different people, he finally found it. He stood in the street, looking at the building. After two weeks of soul searching, he had finally made the decision to find Maggie. His heart was pounding. He wasn't sure how he would feel seeing her. Would he feel love? Hate? Longing? Disgust? Only one way to find out.

He walked up to the door and knocked. A heavy-set woman answered the door.

"Can I help you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at Skittery.

"I'm lookin' for Maggie," said Skittery. "I was told she'd be here."

"Stay here," said the woman, shutting the door.

Skittery sighed and took off his hat, wringing it in his hands. He paced the short stoop a few times before the door opened again, revealing Maggie.

"Skittery," she said, surprised to see him. "What are you doing here?"

"Um," said Skittery, pulling Amelia's letter out of his pocket. "Can we talk about this?"

Maggie frowned and took Amelia's letter, reading it. "Oh," she said. "Yeah, come on in." She opened the door wider and let Skittery walk in. They walked into a foyer and into a small sitting room off to the left.

"What is this place?" Skittery asked.

"It's a shelter for…women," said Maggie.

Skittery nodded and sat down.

"So, uh…" Skittery started, but he didn't know how to start.

"How've you been?" Maggie asked softly.

Skittery nodded. "Good, good," he said. "Nothin' new, same old." He shrugged.

Maggie nodded, letting a few moments of awkward silence pass by.

"So, what did Amelia mean when she said, 'both of them?'" Skittery asked.

"Jumping right into the heavy stuff. Okay." Maggie took a deep breath and stood up. "Stay here," she said. She walked out of the sitting room and up the stairs. She was gone for a few minutes before returning with a bundle in her arms. Skittery felt his heart begin to pound. She walked back to the sofa and sat down next to Skittery. "This is Sofie," she said. "Your daughter."

Skittery felt like he'd been hit with a ton of bricks. "My-my…my daughter?" he asked. Maggie smiled and nodded. "I have a daughter?"

"Yeah," she said.

"You mean, when we…when you and I…then you…" Skittery stuttered.

Maggie chuckled softly. "Yeah," she said. "You want to hold her?"

"Yeah," Skittery beamed. Maggie carefully handed the bundle to Skittery, adjusting his arms, showing him how to hold her. "Wow." He looked at the little girl in his arms. "She's beautiful."

"Wait until she wakes up," said Maggie. "She has your eyes."

"Really?" he grinned, glancing up at Maggie. She nodded. "How old is she?"

"Five months," said Maggie.

Sofie began to make noise and turn her head, reaching up and rubbing her eyes. She slowly blinked open, looking around her field of vision. Soon, her eyes settled on Skittery. Maggie was right – those were his eyes staring up at him. Skittery felt something inside him change when his daughter looked him in the eye. Suddenly, nothing else mattered – only this little girl. Skittery knew he would do anything it took to keep his little girl safe, healthy, and happy.

"Time to go," said the woman from earlier. "No men in here after dusk."

Skittery's smile faded, but he nodded. "Okay," he said, he handed Sofie back to Maggie. "Goodbye, Sofie." He smiled at her.

Maggie stood up and walked Skittery to the door. "Thanks for coming," said Maggie.

Skittery nodded. "Of course," he said, standing in the doorway. "Look, Maggie, if I had known, I would've been there for you. Even though I was mad and hurt that you lied to me…all of us…I mean, she's my daughter, I would've helped you out, and…you know…"

Maggie nodded. "I know," she said. "And…you deserve an explanation, but…" She looked back at the woman standing in the foyer, waiting for Skittery to leave.

"Can I come by tomorrow?" he asked.

Maggie smiled and nodded. "Yeah," she said. "We can talk then."

* * *

The next day, Maggie and Skittery walked through the park, pushing Sofie along in a baby buggy.

"Honestly," said Skittery. "It was a lot harder to deal with the fact that you left without an explanation than it was to find out you'd been lying the whole time."

"I'm so sorry," said Maggie, pushing the baby buggy. "I…made a lot of bad choices back then."

"So did I," Skittery admitted. "I mean I did get you kidnapped."

Maggie nodded. "But, please know, everything I told you about where I came from was true. About my dad dying, Mama, not working, me having to con and steal to survive…"

"Yeah, I heard Amelia say something about that one time," said Skittery.

"What did she say?" she asked.

"That you were doin' the only thing you knew how to do to survive," he said. "Then she said that bein' around us changed you…that you wanted to be different."

Maggie nodded. "She was right," she said. "I wanted to tell you. But there was never really a good time to drop the German thing. By the time I realized I really started to like you, it was too late. I thought you would drop me as soon as you found out I'd been lying, so I kept it up so I could keep you. Amelia finally convinced me to come clean with you."

"Amelia did?" asked Skittery.

Maggie nodded. "I knew you hated me for betraying you, I was sure you just wanted me out of your life."

"You mean it would've been easier for you to disappear," said Skittery.

"Of course it was easier to disappear than to have to see that heart breaking look on your face every time I saw you," said Maggie. "Besides, I was pregnant."

Skittery sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I really wish I would've known about that," said Skittery. "No matter what went down between us, she's my daughter…I should've been taking care of you guys from day one."

Maggie looked up at him. "You're so much better than I ever deserve," she said.

"I really want to be part of her life," said Skittery. "But, I'll be honest, it's going to take me some time to…get to know you again. And…trust you again."

Maggie nodded. "I understand," she said.


	25. Chapter 25

_October 1900_

Amelia walked down the street with Lily. She heard a familiar voice shouting headlines. She smiled when she saw the familiar figure leaning on a crutch. She walked up behind him.

"May I buy one?" she asked.

Crutchy turned around. "Heya, Miss Wakefield!" he said. "Oh, sorry, I guess you're Mrs. Vanderbilt now. Heya, Lily."

"Yeah," Amelia said. "How are you, Crutchy?"

"Can't complain," he said. "Papes have been sellin' pretty good lately."

"Good. How is everyone?"

"They're good. Oh, hey, did ya know Maggie is back?"

Amelia threw a confused look at Lily, but grinned at Crutchy. "She is?"

"Yeah," said Crutchy. "She's got the cutest little girl too. Skittery ain't sellin' no more. He's workin' in the distribution office, where they sell the papes to us newsies. Maggie is stayin' with the girls, and they all love havin' little Sofie around."

Amelia's eyes filled with tears at the mention of all her friends. "Tell me more."

"Well, let's see," said Crutchy. "Our favorite couples are doin' good. Of course you know all about Race and Lily here. Jack's talkin' about marryin' Baby. Penny and Specs have been together almost three years, and he finally took her home to meet your ma."

"I wish I could've been there," said Amelia. She remembered that day. Her mother sent for her, so she could come over, but Amelia couldn't bear to face Specs or Penny.

"Say, I'm almost outta papes. Why don't I walk ya to Tibby's and you can see everyone yourself?"

"Oh, I can't," said Amelia. "I need to be off home."

"Oh, well don't forget this," said Crutchy, handing her a paper.

"Thanks," said Amelia. She handed him a dollar. Crutchy's eyes bulged.

"Mrs. Vanderbilt, I can't accept this," he said.

"I want you to," said Amelia, putting her hand on his arm.

"Thank you," said Crutchy.

"One more question, Crutchy," she said. "How's Spot?"

Crutchy sighed and shook his head. "He's not good," said Crutchy. "He was in a real bad mood around the time you got married. He got in a few fights. Got himself locked up in the refuge. I think he's still in there."

"Thanks, Crutchy," said Amelia, and she and Lily turned and walked down the street. "I miss the newsies," Amelia sighed.

"I know you do," said Lily.

"How come you didn't tell me any of that? About Maggie and Skittery, Jack and Baby…Spot?"

"You never asked," said Lily. "And I didn't want to just bring it up because I know how much you missed them all in the first place. I didn't want you to hurt anymore."

"I appreciate that," said Amelia. "But from now on, I want to hear all about them."

Lily nodded and they continued on in silence. Amelia let her thoughts wander.

The Brooklyn Refuge. She knew exactly where it was. Glenn was away on business the rest of the week. It would be nothing to hop on a trolley and…

No. That was no an option. She was a married woman now. The only way to get over him was to not see him and not think about him.

* * *

When Amelia and Lily returned home, Amelia went into her and Glenn's bedroom. She grabbed one of Glenn's winter coats and some money from their wall safe. She walked back downstairs.

"Lily, I have a huge favor to ask you," she said.

"What is it?" Lily asked.

Amelia handed her to coat and money. "In Brooklyn on Flatbush, there's a House of Refuge about a block from a park. If you go in there and bribe the man at the desk with a couple dollars, he'll let you see Spot. Keep the rest of the money for yourself. I want you to see Spot and give him that jacket."

Lily looked at her. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Amelia sighed. "It's winter and it's freezing in that refuge."

Lily nodded. "Okay."

* * *

Lily and Race walked down Flatbush, looking for the refuge.

"I still think Spot is going to be mad," said Race.

"He may be, but that's not our problem," said Lily. She dug into her pocket and pulled out the tip Amelia had given her. "We're gettin' paid for this."

"Three bucks?" Race's eyes bulged. "For a lousy trip to the refuge?"

"She's a rich lady," said Lily. "And if she wants me to run an errand to the refuge, then I don't care who it pisses off." She spied the building across the street. "There it is."

They crossed the street and walked into the refuge. "We're here to see Spot Conlon," she said.

"No visitors," the man said.

Lily slid the bills across the counter. The man looked at them. "Right this way," he said. He led Lily and Race to the same empty office where Amelia and Spot had spent so much time together. He left them to get Spot.

"I didn't know it was possible it could be colder inside than it is outside," said Race, pulling his jacket tighter around him.

A few minutes later, the man led Spot into the room. "Knock when you're finished," the man said, sitting Spot down and leaving, locking the door.

Spot frowned at them. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Good to see you too, Spot," Race smirked.

Spot chuckled and spit in his hand. Race did the same and they shook.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Just doing my job," she said, putting the coat on the desk.

"What's this?" Spot asked, frowning.

"A delivery for you," said Lily.

Spot looked from them, to the coat, and back to them. "She put you up to this, didn't she?"

Lily swallowed. "She heard you were in here from Crutchy," she said. "I know she used to visit you here."

Spot picked up the jacket and inspected it. He saw a "GV" embroidered on the inside. "Her husband's coat," he said, dropping in back on the desk. "She's giving me her husband's coat."

"She wants you to be warm," said Lily. "She's worried about you."

"Tell her thanks, but no thanks," said Spot.

"Look, Spot, she's just doing what she can to show you she does still care."

"Well, if she still cared, she would've run away one of the hundred times we talked about it," said Spot. "Amelia Vanderbilt has only ever cared about one person, and that's herself."

"You know that's not true, Spot," said Lily.

"Then you don't really know her."


	26. Chapter 26

_October 1900_

"Good morning, Amelia," Lily said, walking into her bedroom with a tray of breakfast food.

"Morning," Amelia yawned.

"Feeling better this morning?" Lily asked as she set the tray down at the foot of the bed and opened the curtains.

"Yeah," said Amelia, sitting up. "I felt fine after you left yesterday too. It's like I'd had the flu every morning…for weeks."

Lily hesitated. "And it's been happening every morning?"

"Mm-hm," Amelia said, taking a bite of toast.

Lily walked back to Amelia's bedside. "Amelia, when was your last cycle?"

Amelia froze, quickly doing the math in her head. "Oh no," she said, mouth full of toast.

"Want me to call the doctor?" asked Lily.

Amelia nodded.

* * *

 _December 1900_

The snow fell heavily outside. Amelia stood in the powder room of their Gramercy Park townhouse, looking at herself in the mirror. Lily stood behind her, buttoning up her dress. She had tried to dress down as much as Glenn would allow her.

"What made me think this was a good idea?" she asked. "They're going to be there. They're all going to be there."

* * *

 _"I was thinking we should sponsor a Christmas party for some of the underprivileged kids in the city," said Amelia, one day over breakfast. "They won't have anything else."_

 _"Hmm," said Glenn, looking up from his paper. "Not a bad idea. That's just the sort of good publicity our family could use. Say, don't the newsies frequent that Irving Hall? They used it for that ridiculous rally last year. That way all the newsies from all over can attend, and we don't have to waste money renting multiple venues."_

 _"Great," Amelia sighed. She hated that he used charity to further his own agenda._

* * *

After all the plans had been laid, Glenn got it in his head to make an appearance. He thought getting his picture taken by a few reporters surrounded by those he helps would be priceless publicity.

And he wanted her to come with.

"You're doing a good thing, Amelia," said Lily, finishing the buttons. "The newsies don't get a Christmas. Tonight they'll be warm, fed, and entertained."

Amelia shook her head. "I just don't see why we have to show up," she said.

"Do you want me there with you?" Lily asked.

Amelia shook her head. "No, you should be with Race and the others. You work here too much as it is. You deserve a night off. I just wish I could have a night off from being a Vanderbilt. They're all going to be there. Penny. Henry. Baby. Jack. Skittery. Maggie. Blondie. Snipeshooter. Brooklyn. Spot." She closed her eyes. "Oh, please don't let him be there," she prayed. "I just wish I wasn't showing so much."

Amelia ran her hand over her small baby bump. As much as she was conflicted about having Glenn's baby despite still being in love with Spot, her heart was already filled with love for the baby.

"I haven't told anybody," said Lily.

"Thank you," said Amelia. "I'm hoping I can just keep my coat on and hide it."

"Darling, are you ready?" Glenn called from the hallway.

Amelia took a breath.

"Good luck," Lily whispered. Amelia walked out.

Amelia and Glenn walked out the door and into the carriage.

"Are you all right, darling? You seem nervous," he said.

"I'm fine," said Amelia. She'd never breathed a word about her friendship with the newsies to Glenn. All he knew was her brother was a newsie. The knot in her stomach tightened the farther downtown they rode.

Before she realized it, the carriage pulled up in front of Irving Hall. Amelia took a deep breath, preparing to face the worst.

* * *

"The poor girl is so nervous," Lily said, joining her friends at their table. Race put his arm around her, giving her a kiss.

"The Vanderbilts are coming tonight," Baby clarified for Maggie.

"No," said Maggie, bouncing Sofie on her knee. "Amelia will be here?"

Lily nodded.

"It will be good to see her," said Penny.

"Drinks, ladies," said Specs as he, Jack, and Skittery brought glasses of soda to the table.

Jack had three glasses in his hands. He set one in front of an empty seat.

"Who's that one for?" Baby asked.

"Spot's coming," said Jack. Baby looked at him, wide-eyed. "What?"

"Amelia will be here with Vanderbilt," said Baby.

"Oh boy," Specs sighed.

"Wasn't Spot in the refuge?" asked Penny.

"We busted him out last week," said Jack.

"How do you think he's gonna react to seeing her?" asked Maggie.

"It's been six months," said Skittery, shrugging.

"After six months, how did you feel about Maggie?" Penny asked him.

Skittery thought for a moment. "This could be bad."

"What could be bad?" Spot asked, sitting down.

"Nothing," said everyone at once.

Spot furrowed his brow, looking at all of them confused.

* * *

"Hello, Newsies!" Medda called out. "What's new?" The hall rang out with cheers. "Before we start with the merriment, the man who is sponsoring this party would like a few words." Medda gestured to Glenn, who was standing just off the stage.

"Let's go," Glenn said quietly to Amelia. "Why do you still have your coat on?"

Amelia sighed and let a stage hand take her coat. She self-consciously put her hand on her bump. She took a deep breath and followed Glenn onto the stage, putting on a fake smile.

"Good evening, newsies!" Glenn began his speech, but Amelia didn't hear a word of it. Her eyes scanned the crowd. She saw both familiar and unfamiliar faces. The unfamiliar faces looked at her indifferently, but the familiar ones all looked angry or surprised. She saw the Brooklyn newsies and the hatred in their eyes. Her eyes landed on a table near the middle of the room and they were all there. Baby, Jack, Penny, Specs, Lily, Race, Maggie, Sofie, Skittery, and…Spot. Her breath caught in her throat. He was motionless and expressionless as he locked eyes with her.

"Lily," said Spot, seeing Amelia. "Is it just me, or is she…"

"Oh my God, she's pregnant," said Baby, covering her mouth.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Penny asked Lily.

"She doesn't want me to," said Lily.

Spot's hand curled into a fist. He sat in silence, watching Amelia. He could feel the anger, hurt, and betrayal bubble inside him.

"You okay, Spot?" Jack asked.

"Fine." Spot stood up and stormed away.

* * *

Amelia kept her polite, charming outside, but was crumbling on the inside. He looked so angry. Of course, after what she did to him, who could blame him?

She only noticed Glenn's speech had ended, when he grabbed her arm and led her down off the stage amongst the newsies. "Just a few minutes so those reporters can get some good pictures for tomorrow's paper," he whispered in her ear.

He left her to go mingle and Amelia looked around, not knowing what to do. She stepped down off the stage, and right into the midst of the Brooklyn newsies. They were all glaring daggers at her. She wanted to run and hide.

"You got a lot of guts comin' here tonight, girlie," said Ice.

Amelia stuck her chin out. "You got a lot of guts talkin' to me like that."

Ice stood up slowly, facing her.

"All right, you two, cut it out," said Mikey, stepping in.

"No, let him stand there," said Amelia, smirking. "Let's see if he'll take a shot at an expecting woman." Ice clenched his jaw and walked off. "That's what I thought."

"What is wrong with you?" Mikey asked, stepping in front of Amelia.

"What?" asked Amelia. "He's a newsie, I'm a Vanderbilt. There's a pecking order in this world."

Mikey raised his eyebrows. "Wow. You just fit right in to whatever group you're with, don't you? Here I thought you might be one of the nice rich folks. Turns out you're just a stuck up bitch like that rest of them." He walked away.

Amelia felt like she'd been punched in the gut. She couldn't believe she'd said those things. She felt filthy from the inside out.

She looked over at her friends' table to see the girls motioning for her to come over. She walked over.

"Hi," she said, meekly.

Penny stood up and hugged her. "It's so good to see you!"

"Is it?" Amelia asked, unsure.

"Of course it is," said Baby, standing up to hug her.

Amelia shook her head. "I shouldn't have come."

"Why?" Penny asked. "What did the Brooklyn boys say to you?"

"Nothing that wasn't deserved. Or untrue. I should go."

"Please don't go so soon," said Baby.

"Little Sofie hasn't said hello to her Auntie Amelia yet," said Maggie, walking over.

Amelia smiled. "Look at her! She's getting so big!"

"Thank you for those baby clothes you had sent over. She's growing like nothing else," Maggie whispered. Amelia winked at her.

"Speaking of babies," Penny said, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh…yeah," Amelia grinned, putting her hand on her tummy.

"When are you due?" asked Maggie.

"Early May," said Amelia.

"Congratulations," Baby grinned.

"Thanks. It's the one thing I'm actually excited about." Amelia couldn't help but grin. Behind the girls, she saw Spot approach, but stop when he saw her.

The girls notice her staring past them, and saw Spot. They wandered away, leaving the two of them facing each other.

"Hi," she said.

Spot nodded politely. "Mrs. Vanderbilt."

"Don't call me that," Amelia said quietly.

"Why not? It's your name."

Amelia sighed.

"I see they busted you out of the refuge."

"Yep," was all Spot said.

"Did you get the coat I sent over?"

"Yep."

"Did it help?" Amelia wanted more than one-word answers.

"Don't know," said Spot. "I think it's still sitting in the refuge."

Amelia sighed. "Look, Spot, I'm sorry," she said. "But there was nothing I could do."

Spot shook his head. "Don't give me that. Don't. You and I both know that's a lie you told yourself so you wouldn't have to be poor."

It was like a swift kick to the gut, but Amelia knew he was right.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I really don't care," said Spot, walking past her. "You made your choice."

Amelia felt the tears sting her eyes.

"Amelia!" Glenn called her name from the stage. She wiped her eyes and turned and walked back to Glenn.


	27. Chapter 27

_January 1901_

"Spot…Spot…"

Spot groaned and swatted away the hand that was shaking his shoulder.

"Spot, get up, Race is here to see you."

"Huh?" Spot asked groggily as he opened his eyes. Mikey was standing over him shaking him.

"Racetrack is here to see you. He says it's urgent," Mikey said.

Spot sighed and threw off the covers. He sat up and put his shoes, pants, and shirt on. "Some one better be dead or dying," he grumbled, "to wake me up in the middle of the night."

Spot walked over to the window where Race was squatting on the fire escape. "What's going on, Race?" he asked.

"You need to come with us, Spot," said Race.

"Why, what's going on?" the tone in Race's voice put him on the alert, waking him up the rest of the way.

"Just come with us," Race repeated.

"Hurry up, it's freezing down here!" Spot heard Lily say from the street.

Spot threw on his jacket and climbed out onto the fire escape and followed Race down.

As soon as they hit the ground, Lily was leading them through the streets of Brooklyn towards Manhattan.

"Will some one please tell me what the hell is going on?" Spot asked, exasperatedly.

Race and Lily exchanged a look. "We'll tell you when we get there."

"Why? Why the big secret?" Spot asked.

Lily sighed and stopped walking. She faced Spot. "Amelia's in the hospital."

"Don't care," said Spot, turning back around and walking toward his lodging house. "I don't want to see the brat of hers."

"Spot, she's dying," Lily blurted out, her voice cracking.

Spot froze mid-step. Everything in his mind went blank.

"She lost the baby and she won't stop bleeding. They don't know if she's going to make it," said Lily.

"I know she hurt you," said Race. "I know you hate her. But this could be your last chance to see her. Ever. Do you really want to pass that up?"

Spot stood there, weighing the options. His hurt and anger were the only things keeping him from running to the hospital.

He turned back and walked toward Race and Lily once more. "Let's go."

Lily and Race nodded and they all walked as fast as they could toward Manhattan.

It took them over an hour to get to the Knickerbocker Hospital.

"They couldn't have taken her somewhere closer?" asked Spot.

"This is the best in the city," said Lily. "The only place acceptable for a girl like her."

"How are we gonna get in? Don't they have visiting hours or something?"

"Specs broke the lock on her window when he was there today," said Race. "Told me how to jimmy it open."

They climbed the stairs to the fire escape, careful not to be seen by the night nurses or guards. Race led them to her window and quietly slid it open.

Being a Vanderbilt, Amelia was given one of the few private rooms, so they were safe from passing hospital employees.

"They have her on a lot of drugs, so she probably won't wake up," said Lily.

Spot slid through the window and landed quietly on his feet.

Against the opposite wall was Amelia's bed, with a pale, sleeping Amelia in it. "Amelia," he whispered.

He walked over to her bedside and sat in the chair next to it. Spot took her hand in his. It was cold. The only indication of life was the small rise and fall her chest made as she breathed.

"Of course you'd do something dramatic like this," Spot said, as if Amelia did it on purpose. "I don't even know why I'm here. You made your choice, so why should I care if you live or die?"

As soon as Spot said those words, he got a bitter taste in his mouth. He sighed, knowing they weren't true. The wall of anger and bitterness he's built up inside began to crumble.

"You gotta fight this, Wakefield," he said. "You gotta wake up."

Amelia didn't respond.

Spot felt the sting of tears in his eyes, and he dug his knuckles into his eyes to try and stop it.

"You can't die on me," he said, squeezing her hand. "You just can't. This world needs an Amelia Wakefield. Without you, who's gonna walk around and put me in my place?"

Spot rocked back and forth slightly, rubbing her hand.

He bowed his head, sighing. Why didn't he fight harder for her? Why did he just let her make the choice to leave him? Maybe if he'd fought harder, she wouldn't be here right now.

"Damn it, Amelia," he said. "Why'd you have to do that? Why'd you have to leave?" He paused. "Why isn't your husband here? If you were with me, I wouldn't leave your side until you were awake and sassing at me."

He watched her sleep for a few more minutes.

"I almost didn't come," he confessed. "I didn't want to see you like this, because I knew if I did, I wouldn't be so angry at you. I can't be angry with you when you're like this…no matter what you did. Don't get me wrong, I'm still rightly mad, but…it doesn't seem to matter right now."

Spot sat there in silence for a few more minutes, his head bowed, rubbing her hand.

"Spot…" came a small whisper.

Spot's head jerked up and saw Amelia, her eyes half-open, looking at him.

"Hey," he said softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Not sure yet," she said. "Where am I?"

Spot hesitated. "You're in the hospital," he said.

"What happened?" Amelia asked, furrowing her brow. "Is the baby okay?"

Spot hadn't realized that Amelia didn't know what was going on.

Spot shook his head. "No, you lost the baby, Wakefield."

"What? No," said Amelia, her eyes filling with tears. "No, no, no, no…"

"I'm so sorry," said Spot.

Spot held her hand and soothed her hair as she cried.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know that you didn't know," he said after her quiet sobbing had subsided into soft hiccups. "Tonight Lily and Race came to get me, telling me what happened and that they weren't sure you'd make it."

"And you came?"

"Of course I came," said Spot. "Just because I'm pissed off at you, doesn't mean I don't care about you."

Amelia gave him a small, tired smile.

"The baby was the one bright spot in my life," she said, her smile fading once more

"Not your husband?" Spot asked.

Amelia just looked at him. Tears filled her eyes and she looked away from him, toward the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know I hurt you. And I hate myself for it."

"Let's not worry about that right now," said Spot. "You just need to focus on getting better, okay?"

Amelia nodded.

Soon the first hints of dawn began to light up the sky.

"I need to go," said Spot. "I'm not supposed to be in here." Spot stood up, gave her hand a squeeze, and walked to the window.

Amelia bit her lip as she watched him slide through the window, wondering where they now stood. "Spot?" she softly called out.

Spot turned around on the fire escape and looked at her.

"Thank you."

Spot gave a small smile, nodded, and closed the window.

* * *

Two weeks later, Amelia was able to go home. Even after the doctors took her off bed rest, she rarely left her bed.

Seeing Spot was bittersweet. She had missed him so much, just seeing his face was good for her soul. But seeing him just made her miss him all the more.

Amelia knew there was no going back to her old life. She was the wife of a public figure, and she needed to leave that world behind. She also knew that being with Spot had changed her. For better or for worse, she was a different woman for loving the Brooklyn newsie.


	28. Chapter 28

_March 1901_

"I don't want to," said Amelia.

"Amelia, you've been cooped up in this house for two months," said Glenn. "You've long since healed up. I think it would be good for you to get some fresh air."

Amelia sighed and rolled over in bed.

Glenn sighed. "Do I need to get Lily back here?"

"I don't care," said Amelia.

Glenn turned and walked out of the room.

* * *

Lily sat in Tibby's eating lunch with the newsies when the bell over the door rang. A tall, well-dressed man entered and scanned the room.

"Lily!" said the man.

Lily looked over and stood up. "Mr. Vanderbilt," she said.

"Lily, I need your help," he said. "I know it's your day off, but would you mind coming in? I can't get Amelia out of bed. I have tried everything." Spot's ears perked up a bit at the sound of Amelia's name.

"Um, I'm not sure what I could do…" said Lily.

"I'll pay you double wages," said Glenn.

"Let me grab my coat," said Lily.

"No," said Spot.

"Spot," said Race, frowning.

"No, we can't all bend over backwards to the whims of the Vanderbilts," he said, standing up.

"Spot," said Lily through clenched teeth. "This is my boss."

"I know exactly who he is," said Spot. He turned to Glenn. "If Amelia wants to stay in bed for the next three years, then let her. She's a grown woman; she can take care of herself. And on that subject, she did just lose her baby, okay? The one bright spot in her life. So maybe let her be for a while."

Glenn stared hard at Spot as he spoke. "I'm sorry, who are you? And how is my wife any of your business?"

Spot just rolled his eyes. "Forget it." He grabbed his hat and stormed out of the restaurant.

"I'll help you with Amelia, Mr. Vanderbilt," said Lily.

"Thank you," said Glenn, walking out of the restaurant.

"I'll be back later," Lily gave Race a kissed and followed Glenn into his private carriage.

* * *

There was a knock on the door.

"Mrs. Vanderbilt?" Lily called, opening the door.

"If you insist," Amelia groaned.

Lily walked into the room and closed the door. "You doing okay?" she asked, sitting on the bed.

"No."

Lily was quiet for a moment. "Spot told off Mr. Vanderbilt at Tibby's."

Amelia rolled over. "Wait…what?"

Lily nodded. "It's true. I'll tell you the story if you get out of bed."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "He offered you double wages, didn't he?"

"You've done this before," Lily joked. "You hungry?"

"No," said Amelia. As if on cue, her stomach grumbled, giving her away.

Lily sighed. "Amelia, what are you doin'? Going on a hunger strike?"

"Not a bad idea. Nothin' worth living for anyway."

"The story of Spot coming to your defense might be."

* * *

Amelia sat on her balcony with Lily, a tray of tea and small sandwiches between them.

"So what happened at Tibby's?" asked Amelia.

"Mr. Vanderbilt came to Tibby's to get me to get you out of bed," she said. "Spot laid into him about letting you grieve."

"Great," Amelia rolled her eyes.

"Most of Brooklyn was there too."

Amelia shook her head. "That won't change anything. I burned that bridge at Christmas."

"You burned it at your wedding."

Amelia looked at her. Lily raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "I hate when you're right."

"You know, I think Glenn has some suspicions about how well you know the newsies. Just from what Spot said."

"You think I should tell him?"

Lily shrugged. "It's up to you. But he's definitely going to ask about Spot."

"I miss him so much," Amelia said. "And I want my baby back."

"I know you do," Lily said, putting her hand on Amelia's arm. "What can I do? You want to see him?"

Amelia shook her head. "Wouldn't do any good."


	29. Chapter 29

_November 1901_

There was a ring at the door. Amelia frowned, wondering who would be calling on her at this hour. The household staff had all gone, save for the butler, who always stayed until Glenn returned. She stood up and walked down the hall to the landing of the stairs.

"Mrs. Vanderbilt, there are two young women asking for you at the door," said the butler.

Amelia walked the rest of the way down and into the foyer. She saw Penny and Baby standing in the doorway.

"Thank you, Alfred," Amelia smiled. Alfred nodded and walked back into the kitchen.

"Amelia, you need to come with us," said Penny.

"I can't," said Amelia, beginning to close the door.

Penny put her foot down, stopping the door. "It's Spot," said Penny. "He got soaked. Really bad. Some guys from Harlem really did a number on him – one of them pulled a knife."

Amelia felt her heart sink. She opened the door again. "Is he okay?" she asked.

Baby shook her head. "Not really," she said. "He's pretty banged up."

"I can't go," said Amelia.

"Why not?" Penny frowned.

"I'm married, I can't go gallivanting off into the night to some boys lodging house just to see…" started Amelia.

"To see the love of your life?" Penny offered.

"Shh!" Amelia snapped.

"Look, Amelia," said Baby. "Spot hasn't been doing good since you left. He's been in and out of the refuge, there was problems with Queens…it's been bad, but we've stayed away. We wouldn't have come to get you unless it was bad. Really bad. As in…he's lost a lot of blood, and if he doesn't get proper care, we're not sure if he'll make it through the night."

Amelia sighed and rested her forehead against the door.

"Lily told us it's poker night," Penny said quietly. "Then Glenn won't be home until at least 2 or 3 in the morning."

Amelia looked at her for a couple moments, and then sighed. "Meet me by the fire escape," she whispered, then closed the door.

She turned and climbed the stairs. "I've got a terrible headache," she called to Alfred. "I'm going to lie down for the rest of the evening. I wish to not be disturbed."

"Yes, Mrs. Vanderbilt," Alfred replied, walking into the room.

Amelia went into her bedroom and closed and locked her door. She changed into the simplest outfit she had – a white blouse and a grey skirt. She took her hair down out of its pins and put it in a simple braid, laying it over her shoulder.

She slowly opened her bedroom window, trying to make sure it didn't make any noise. She climbed out onto the fire escape, and climbed down. Penny and Baby were waiting for her in the alley.

"Where is he?" she asked.

"At the Manhattan boys' place," said Baby, leading the way.

The three girls walked downtown as fast as they could.

* * *

All eyes were on Amelia when the girls walked in. The expressions were varied – some were surprised, others angry, and still others indifferent. Ice and Flint sat at the base of the stairs, glaring.

"Come on," said Baby, leading her up the stairs.

Ice stepped in front of the stairs, not letting Amelia pass.

"He don't want to see you," said Flint.

"Get out of my way, Flint."

"Come on, boys, let her through," said Baby.

Flint didn't budge.

"Flint, I've already lost my baby this year, and now I'm about to lose Spot. You're looking at a woman with absolutely nothing to lose."

"Let her through, Flint," Jack sighed.

Flint grudgingly stepped to the side and Amelia followed Baby up the stairs. They walked into the bunkroom and Amelia froze at the sight of Spot. He was lying in a bottom bunk, asleep. He had a black eye, and his arms and chest were all haphazardly bandaged, with blood seeping through.

Mikey was sitting in a chair next to the bunk. He looked up and his expression hardened when he saw Amelia.

Amelia put her hand over her mouth. "When did this happen?" she whispered.

"Couple hours ago," said Baby.

"Is he…I mean, will he…"

Baby shrugged. "He's been out ever since the boys found him," said Baby.

Amelia walked up to the foot of the bunk.

"Mikey," Baby whispered and she gestured for him to leave the room with her.

Mikey sighed stood up and walked out behind Baby.

Amelia walked over and sat down in Mikey's chair.

Amelia put her hand on Spot's arm, rubbing her thumb over his wrist. His chest was barely rising and falling with his shallow breath. He'd changed since she saw him last – his arms were a little bigger, his shoulders broader, his jaw more defined – but he was still her Spot.

"I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm here," she said. She wasn't sure what else to say. She felt tears begin to pour from her eyes. She bit her lip. "You know, we gotta quit meeting like this," she attempted to joke. Her small smile faded. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Spot. You deserved better than what I did to you." Amelia watched him sleep. She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. "I love you. I never stopped loving you. And I don't know if I ever will." She sighed. "You changed me, Conlon."

Amelia held his hands in hers.

"If I could do it all over again, I would've walked out that door with you," she said. "Actually, no. If I could go back and do it over again, the minute you asked me if I want to marry you, I would've dragged you to the nearest Justice of the Peace." She was quiet for a moment. "Ten months, and I've thought about you every single day."

She watched him sleep for a few more moments. "What the hell have you been thinking?" she asked. "Getting in fights? A turf war? In and out of the refuge? You're getting reckless, Conlon. You need to be careful. I don't want the girls to come to me one day to tell me you're buried in a potter's field." She paused, looking at him. "Who am I kidding? I'd never let you be buried in a potter's field. I'd give you a headstone as big as your ego, and on it, put 'The King of Brooklyn,' and then in little tiny letters underneath, 'The biggest smart ass that ever lived.'"

She grinned at him, a small part of her hoping he'd wake up with a comeback for her. Her smile faded. "You're going to be okay," she said. "I'm going to get you the care you need."

Finally, she stood up and leaned over, planting a kiss on his lips.

"Goodbye, Patrick," she whispered. She stood up straight and turned.

"So that's it then?" Spot asked groggily.

Amelia whirled around. "You're awake?" she asked.

Spot grinned tiredly and opened his eyes. "When I heard your voice, I thought I was dreamin'," he said. Amelia sat down, smiling softly. "But when you didn't shut up, you woke me."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "I see you have all your customary charm in tact," she said.

"Of course," said Spot. "So is it true? All the stuff you said?"

"What all did you hear?" she asked.

"Something about a Justice of the Peace, but how you've thought about me every day for the last ten months."

"I have to go."

Spot reached out and grabbed her hand. "Don't."

"I have to. I shouldn't have even come."

"Why the turn around?" Spot frowned. "Not two minutes ago you were spilling your guts to me, now you're shutting me out again."

"It's one thing sharing my personal thoughts when you can't hear me. Not when you're awake expecting me to come back. I'm married."

"I'm well aware of that fact. So that's it, then? You're just going back to him after sayin' stuff like that?"

"I have to. I made a vow and signed a legal document. I may not have liked it, but I did it."

"Then why'd you come back here?"

Amelia was quiet for a moment. "Same reason you came to the hospital when I was there."

Spot smirked. "Because you still love me."

Amelia sighed and rolled her eyes. "You're acting awfully calm. I thought you were mad and you hated me."

"I am mad at you – eighteen months worth of mad. But I don't hate you."

"You should," Amelia crossed her arms. "You wanted to marry me and I turned around and married some one else."

"No," said Spot. "You did something worse. I wanted to marry you and you wanted to marry me. You had the chance, but it would've been too scary. So you took the easy way out. You married a man you don't love just so you didn't have to be poor."

Amelia pursed her lips, stood up, and stormed out.

"That's right, leave. It's what you're best at."

Amelia stormed down the stairs and headed toward the door.

"The jackass is awake," she called over her shoulder and slammed the door.

Mikey and Jack jumped up and ran up the stairs. "Spot?" Mikey asked, walking up to the bunk.

"She leave?" Spot asked, sighing.

"Yeah," said Mikey.

"Walk her home," said Spot.

"What?" Mikey frowned.

"It's the middle of the night, she shouldn't be walkin' around downtown by herself," said Spot.

"But Spot…"

"Just do it."

Mikey sighed and rushed down the stairs and out the door. He got onto the street just in time to see Amelia round a corner.

"Amelia!" he called, running after her. Amelia turned when she heard some one call her name. Mikey finally caught up with her.

"What is it?" Amelia asked.

"Spot wanted me to walk you home," he said.

Amelia frowned. "He did?"

Mikey nodded as they began walking once more.

"I thought you hated me," said Amelia.

"I do."

"After all I've done, I don't blame you."

"So you just do what Spot tells you, even if you hate it?"

"No." Mikey shook his head. "I do what Spot wanted me to do because he's my best friend. And for some reason or another, he still cares about you."

Amelia sighed. "I screwed up, Mikey. And it's not just Spot. It's everybody. The girls, the Lower East Side boys, Brooklyn. I miss you all every single day."

Mikey didn't say anything.

"I know, okay?" she continued. "I know how Brooklyn works. What's done is done. No matter how sorry I am, or how much I regret it, or even what I could do to make it up to you, it's about that moment of betrayal. I turned my back on you boys."

They walked along in silence for a few minutes.

"Brooklyn really loved you at one point," Mikey said. Amelia looked over at him. "We were all big fans of you and Spot together. Havin' you around made it a little more fun. And it's more than you turnin' your back on him. You were rich and happy and you left him in the dust. The entire time you two were together that was his biggest fear."

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "He said that?"

"Only to me," said Mikey. "Amelia, you think…" Mike gave a wry laugh. "You think that runnin' away with Spot would've meant you'd be cold and hungry and poor all the time. Brooklyn takes care of our own. Sure, Jack's boys look out for each other, but it's different in Brooklyn. We're family. Spot would've taken better care of you than your husband probably does. And if Spot got carted off to the refuge, none of our boys would've let you go hungry or cold. Just like you would've never let them go cold or hungry."

Amelia didn't say anything and they walked the rest of the way in silence.

* * *

A half an hour later, there was a knock on the lodging house door.

Jack stood up and opened the door. Standing outside was a man carrying a black bag.

"Yeah?" said Jack.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Gershowitz," he said. "I was sent to tend an injured young man."

Penny and Baby shared a look. "This way," said Baby, standing up. The man took off his hat and walked in, past Jack. He followed Baby up the stairs.

Dr. Gershowitz began to clean and redress Spot's wounds. Baby sat on the other side of the bunk.

"Have a nice visit?" she asked Spot.

"What do you think?" Spot grumbled.

Spot clenched his jaw and stared up at the bunk above him. He was angry with Amelia - he was livid. Her choice hurt him deeply, but he would never admit that out loud. What made it worse was the knowledge that it wasn't over for her either. And that simultaneously gave Spot hope and made him even madder.


	30. Chapter 30

_November 1901_

She knew it would be a stupid idea. Worse than stupid. It would cause more pain, drama, and scandal than New York society had ever seen.

But if she went through with it, she wouldn't have to deal with any of the aftermath. She'd be in Brooklyn, somewhere no one would find her.

This was crazy. She was married. Running away wouldn't change anything. It would only get Spot arrested and her hauled back to Gramercy Park.

Amelia turned around, looking away from Brooklyn. It was out of the question. She made her choice, and she had to live with it. She pulled her fur coat tighter around her to keep the chill out. She sighed and turned to walk back to the trolley when she saw a figure walking toward her.

"What's this? A Vanderbilt below 14th Street?" Mikey asked, walking towards her. "Definitely not somethin' you see everyday."

Amelia sighed. "All right, get it out of your system."

Mikey smirked. "Way to take all the fun out of it. What are you doin' down here?"

"I could ask the same of you."

"I was visitin' Spot."

Amelia paused. "How is he?" she asked quietly

"The Doc said he wouldn't have made it," said Mikey. Amelia didn't say anything. "Said if you hadn't called him, and we had kept doing what we were doin', he would've died from an infection."

"Is he okay?" Amelia asked.

"He is now."

"Well that's all that matters."

"We know you called the doctor."

Amelia shrugged. "Nothing I can do will ever make up what I did to him," said Amelia. "But that doesn't mean I won't spend the rest of my life trying."

Mikey looked at her for a few beats. It was easy to miss the sadness in her eyes with the way she talked and carried herself. "Come on," said Mikey. "I'll walk you home."

* * *

Lily and Race crossed the bridge into Brooklyn, carrying canvas bags.

"I still don't know about this," said Race. "Brooklyn ain't the kind to take charity."

"Again, we're gettin' paid for this," said Lily. "I don't care who it pisses off. Besides, you got a new jacket out of the deal."

They turned down a few streets and found the docks that Brooklyn usually hung out on.

"Heya Race," said Spot when he saw them. He stood leaning against a pole, shivering and smoking a cigarette.

"Hey Spot," said Race. They spit-shook hands.

"What's all this?" Spot nodded to the bags.

"Uh, a delivery, I guess," said Race, looking at Lily.

Lily handed him one of the bags, full of brand new, warm jackets.

Spot sighed. "I would throw these in the river if it weren't so damn cold." He grabbed one of the jackets and walked over to a small boy with dirty blonde hair, no more than five years old, who was shivering with nothing more than a large, thread-bare jacket to keep him warm. "Here ya go, Pint." Spot took the old tattered jacket off the boy and wrapped the brand new jacket around him.

Race and Spot handed out the rest of the jackets to the boys.

Lily went around, handing out bread rolls and soft pretzels to the boys.

"Third time this month," said Slugger, putting on the new jacket. "You know, we should get dumped by rich girls more often. Their guilt is our meal ticket."

Spot just rolled his eyes and moved on to the next newsie.

"Who's this angel?" Flint asked, accepting a pretzel from Lily.

"Just a messenger," said Lily.

"You look a little more than that." He winked.

"You're barkin' up the wrong tree, Flint," said Spot, handing him a jacket. "That's Race's girl."

"Well, if you ever get tired of them puny 'hattan boys, you know where to find a real man."

Lily rolled her eyes and moved on.

After all the jackets were distributed, Spot shrugged on the old thread-bare jacket Pint had been wearing earlier.

Lily looked at him. "You didn't get one?"

Spot lit another cigarette. "We got a lot more boys this winter," said Spot. "Don't worry about it. If your boss asks, tell her everyone is well clothed and fed now. No need to keep giving us stuff out of guilt."

"You know," said Lily, "you boys ought to show a little more gratitude. It's not like doing all of this is easy for Amelia."

"Yeah, I'm sure it's real hard to just throw your money around." Flint rolled his eyes.

"It is when it's not your money and your husband yells at your for 'wasting' it," said Lily.

"What?" Spot frowned. "What do you mean? I thought the richies were all about giving to the poor so they could brag about it."

Lily sighed. She lowered her voice so only Spot could hear. "After you yelled at Mr. Vanderbilt in Tibby's, he became suspicious. Finally, Amelia had to come clean about everything, so he gets really suspicious and hates it when she goes and buys things for the newsies."

"He's not hurting her, is he?"

"Spot, it's none of my business."

"Lily, you have to tell me."

Lily sighed and looked at him for a moment. "He's not beating her, okay? But he is a little…rough." Spot clenched his jaw. "Whenever the subject of her charity or the newsies comes up, he grabs her and pulls her into another room. Afterwards, she's always in her room crying." Lily paused. "One time I walked in on accident, and I saw him slap her."

Spot balled his hands into fists. He turned towards the street.

"Spot, no," said Lily, putting her hands on his chest. "You can't tell her that I told you. And you can't go showing up to her place. You'll get her in so much trouble if the staff sees a newsie coming up to the house."

Spot was silent for a moment. "They won't."


	31. Chapter 31

_January 1902_

"How's Spot doing?" Amelia asked, sitting at the small table.

"Okay, I guess," shrugged Snipeshooter, a mouth full of eggs. "Haven't seen him around much."

Amelia lit her cigarette and blew the smoke upward. "Good. Everyone else okay?"

"Yeah," said Snipeshooter, shrugging.

"You and Blondie?" Amelia asked. Snipeshooter shrugged. Amelia rolled her eyes. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," said Snipeshooter. "She just gets mad at me for no reason."

"When was the last time she got mad at you?"

"Yesterday," said Snipeshooter. "I was playin' poker with Boots and Tumbler, and she comes over, wanting to spend time together. I asked her what she wanted to do, and she said she didn't know; she just wanted to spend time with me. So I told her she could watch us play poker. Then she got mad."

Amelia chuckled. "Snipes, that's not spending time together," she said.

"How?" asked Snipeshooter. "We're together, aren't we?"

"She wanted it to be just you and her," she said. "Like, go for a walk, or eat dinner, or do something where it's just the two of you."

"Okay," said Snipeshooter, nodding. "Well, what about this. One day, I went over to her lodging house, and she said she wasn't feeling well. I said she looked fine, you know, she wasn't sniffling or throwing up or anything. Then she screams at me, yellin' about how I don't understand. This happens at least once a month. Do girls get sick that much?"

Amelia laughed. "I'd let that one be, if I were you," she said.

"Why can't you tell me?" he asked. "If I'm gonna be a good boyfriend, I need to know these things."

"Okay," said Amelia, extinguishing her cigarette and folding her hands. "When a girl reaches a certain age, her body starts to change…"

"Aaaahhhh," said Snipeshooter, covering his ears. "Okay, never mind, I don't need to know!"

Amelia cracked up. "Like I said, just let it be," she said. "But the next time it happens, just tell her you're sorry she's not feeling well, and ask if there's anything you can do for her."

"Okay," said Snipeshooter, nodding. "Thanks."

"No problem," Amelia winked.

"Well, I better go," said Snipeshooter.

"Thanks for stopping by," said Amelia, taking the packs of cigarettes Snipeshooter brought and put them in her hiding spot. She grabbed a couple bills and handed them to Snipeshooter. "Go buy some pretty flowers for Blondie and tell her your sorry. Then take her out to dinner."

"Okay," said Snipeshooter. "Bye, Amelia!" Snipeshooter put his hat on and walked out the back door.

* * *

There was a knock on the lodging house door. Baby walked to the door and opened it. Snipeshooter was standing there with a small, but pretty bunch of flowers.

"Is Blondie here?" Snipeshooter asked.

Baby grinned. "She is," she said. "Come on in. I'll go get her for you." Snipeshooter walked in and sat on the sofa as Baby climbed the steps, two at a time.

"Blondie, Snipes is here to see you," said Baby.

"I don't want to talk to him," said Blondie.

"Oh trust me, you do," said Baby, grinning.

"What's going on?" Penny asked.

Baby motioned for Penny to come over. Blondie walked down the stairs, and Baby and Penny followed her, staying on the landing, just out of sight, but close enough to hear and peek around the corner.

"Hey Blondie," Snipeshooter said, standing up.

"Hey," said Blondie, smiling when she saw the flowers.

"Um, these are for you," said Snipeshooter, handing her the flowers.

"Thanks," she beamed.

"Do you want to come to dinner with me?" he asked. "Just you and me? We can go wherever you want."

Blondie grinned and launched herself at Snipeshooter, giving him a kiss smack on the lips.

Penny and Baby grabbed each other hands, both silently "awww"ing at the adorableness of it all.

"So precious!" Penny whispered.

"I know!" Baby whispered back. "Our babies are growing up so fast!"


	32. Chapter 32

_January 1902_

Spot walked into Medda's.

"Spot Conlon?" Medda asked. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company in my theater?"

Spot smirked and chuckled. "Always a charmer, Medda. Actually, I was wondering if you could help me with somethin'."

"Sure, sure," said Medda. "Come on in."

"Mrs. Vanderbilt, there is a young man here asking for you," said Lily. "He _says_ he is a business associate of Mr. Vanderbilt's and wishes to speak with you."

"Oh," said Amelia, confused.

"That's who he _says_ he is," Lily said, giving her a meaningful look. "Please remember, he does what he wants, there wasn't anything I could do about it."

Amelia sighed, knowing exactly who it was.

"Show him to the parlor, I'll be down in a minute."

Lily nodded and walked down the stairs.

Amelia stood up and straightened her dress. She checked her hair in the mirror and walked down the stairs.

She walked into the parlor and saw a man standing, looking out the window onto the street.

"What are you doing here?" asked Amelia.

Spot turned around and seeing him caught Amelia off-guard. He was wearing a dark blue three-piece suit. His hair had been trimmed and combed off to the side. The blue in the suit brought out his eyes, and Amelia was stricken dumb for a few moments.

"Good morning, Mrs. Vanderbilt," he smirked, walking over. He reached down for her hand and brought it up, kissing her knuckles.

It took Amelia a moment to find her voice. "What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"Isn't this the point where you offer me something to drink and someone brings in a plate of sandwiches or some such?" asked Spot, sitting down.

"Aren't you making yourself at home," Amelia frowned. "And no, because you're not staying."

"Now, what would the household staff say if they saw you throw one of Mr. Vanderbilt's associates out of the house?"

Amelia pursed her lips, getting angrier by the minute.

"Lily," Amelia called through clenched teeth. Soon Lily appeared in the parlor. "Have the cook make up a plate of sandwiches and bring us something to drink, please."

"Yes, Mrs. Vanderbilt," said Lily. She left once more.

Amelia sighed and sat down in an armchair across from Spot. "So why the sudden change of heart, huh?" she asked. "After all I did to you, why are you coming here now?"

"Coming to see my friend," Spot smirked.

"We're not friends," said Amelia.

"Aren't we?" Spot raised an eyebrow. "We visit each other when we're sick, I'd say friends do that."

"Shh," said Amelia. "I don't need the household staff to start gossiping. And we can't be friends."

"Why?"

"You know why."

"Because you're still in love with me? Because you know the longer I'm here, the stronger temptation to leave with me?"

"No," said Amelia. "Because I am a married woman, and it is completely inappropriate for you to be here."

"Because your husband might hit you if he finds out?"

Amelia sat in shock for a couple beats. "How did you…LILY!"

"Don't blame her," said Spot.

Lily appeared in the door. "Yes?"

"What did you tell him?!"

"Hey." Spot stood up and moved to the sofa Amelia was sitting on, between her and Lily. "I made her tell me. So if you're gonna get mad at someone, get mad at me. Or better yet, get mad at your husband."

Amelia huffed. "I want you out of here."

"No," said Spot.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not leaving," said Spot. "If what Lily says is true, then your husband is going to come home tonight and find out that you sent two doctors over to the Brooklyn Lodging House to help out the sick boys over there. I want to be here."

"You're going to make it worse," said Amelia.

"I'll protect you."

"And when you leave? What, are you going to stay here forever?" Amelia sighed. "Spot, please just leave. It will make it so much easier for everybody."

"Why are you giving up so easily? That's not the Amelia Wakefield I know."

"Well I'm Amelia Vanderbilt now. I'm adapting. This is my life now. I'm just trying to do what I can with my circumstances. I've lost you, I've lost the newsies…the least I can do is make sure you guys are okay from a distance."

Lily walked in with the sandwiches and a pitcher of water.

"Please leave," said Amelia softly to Spot. "You can't be here."

"But the food just got here," said Spot, scooting forward and taking one of the sandwiches.

Amelia rested her elbow on the arm of the chair and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Spot, we can't do…this," she said.

"Do what?" Spot asked. "Be friends?"

"We're not friends," said Amelia. "We can't be friends. Not after what we went through and not where we're at now."

"So we're going back to the refuge?" Spot asked.

"What?" asked Amelia.

"This is your House of Refuge," said Spot. "Just like you visited me, I'll visit you."

"You can't do that."

"You're forgetting, Mrs. Vanderbilt. I'm Spot Conlon. I can do whatever I want."


	33. Chapter 33

_January 1902_

Spot walked toward Tibby's from Brooklyn when he saw a familiar face on the other side of the street. It was Glenn Vanderbilt with a blonde woman on his arm.

Spot frowned, watching the couple. He watched them hail a horse drawn cab and get in. Spot saw Glenn lean in and kiss the woman passionately through the window.

Spot continued on his way to Tibby's. He walked in and sat at a table with Baby and Penny.

"Hey Spot," said Baby. "Jack should be here any minute."

"Can I ask you girls something?" he asked.

"Sure," said Penny.

"I just saw Amelia's husband with another woman," he said.

"What?" asked Penny.

"Really?" asked Baby, getting serious. "You sure they weren't just…walking together?"

"They were kissing in a carriage," said Spot.

Baby sighed and leaned back in her chair. Penny chewed on her lip.

"What do I do?" he asked.

"That's a tough one," said Penny. "I mean it's none of our business. That's between Glenn and Amelia."

"And the other woman," Spot chimed in.

"But on the other hand…Amelia deserves to know," said Baby.

"Maybe we should talk to Lily," suggested Penny. "She knows Amelia best."

"What if it were you?" Spot asked. "If your boys were cheating on you, would you want someone to tell you?"

"Absolutely!" said Baby and Penny in unison.

Spot nodded, thinking. "I guess that's my answer."

"But be careful," said Baby. "You and Amelia are on rocky terms right now. She might not take it well hearing it from you."

"Maybe Lily or us should say something to her first," said Penny. "You know, ease her into it. First, raise the suspicion, then you can confirm it."

* * *

Amelia sat in her room, brushing out her hair. She heard a tap on her window. She turned and saw Spot there, squatting on the fire escape. She rolled her eyes and opened the window.

"What are you doing here?"

"Amelia, there's something you need to know," said Spot.

"What?" Amelia sighed.

"It's your husband," he said. "He's…" Spot sighed. He thought it would be easy to tell her. "He's runnin' around on you."

"What?" Amelia barked out a laugh.

"He's got other women," said Spot.

"Right," Amelia rolled her eyes. "Glenn is a busy man, okay? He's out doing business, and sometimes to relieve stress, he'll play poker with some friends of his."

"Amelia," said Spot. "I saw him."

"You were probably mistaken," said Amelia. "She was probably just the wife of a business associate he saw in the street or something."

"Kissing? In a carriage?"

Amelia froze. "Look, Spot, I know you're here trying to fight for me, or whatever it is you think you're doing, but that is low. Even for you. Glenn is my husband, and he would never do that. And if you're going to come around, making accusations like that, I don't want to see your face around here again."

With that, Amelia slammed the window in his face and closed the curtains.


	34. Chapter 34

_February 1902_

"Darling, are you almost ready?" Glenn called.

"I don't feel well, must I go?" Amelia asked.

"Of course you must! Joseph Pulitzer is hosting this banquet!"

Amelia sighed. "But it will be so boring."

"Nonsense. You'll be with the other wives after dinner. Surely you'll find more scintillating conversation with them."

A few minutes later, Glenn and Amelia were sitting in their carriage on their way downtown. The New York World building. It was right in the middle of her friends' selling territory, and a stone's throw from the Brooklyn Bridge. Amelia thought about her last conversation with Spot.

"Darling, can I ask you a question?" Amelia asked.

"What?" asked Glenn, looking out the window.

Amelia paused for a moment, trying to phrase it right. "Someone told me they saw you downtown with another woman the other day." Amelia mentally kicked herself – that was the worst way to phrase it.

"Nonsense," said Glenn. "I was working all day every day last week. Between the businesses and cleaning up your messes with my family, I have no time for…extra activities."

"My messes?" asked Amelia.

"Buying top of the line jackets and sending them to street kids in Brooklyn? Sending the best doctors in the city to the Lower East Side and Brooklyn? Buying out an entire pretzel peddler's cart and distributing it to kids who sit around and sell newspapers all day? Do you want me to go on?"

"It's charity," said Amelia. "There are people in this city who weren't born with the advantages we have."

"Charity comes with a receipt, dear. Charity comes with a tax break. What you're doing is throwing money down the drain."

Amelia sighed and watched out the window.

* * *

The banquet went by in a blur. Food, mindless chatter, music, business talk, politics talk, fashion talk. Amelia began to feel suffocated in the stuffy room, with all the perfume, smoke, and rich food smells. She had to get out.

"Excuse me," she smiled politely at the women she had been talking with. She took the elevator downstairs and walked out of the building into the cool night air. She took a couple deep breaths to clear her head.

She heard a small child crying around the corner. She walked around the corner and saw a little boy with dirty blonde hair, no more than five years old, crying on a crate.

"Hey," she said softly. She walked over and squatted in front of him. "Are you okay?" The little boy whimpered and shook his head. "Are you lost?" The little boy sniffed and nodded. "Can you tell me where you live?" The little boy shrugged. "Do you have a mom and dad?" The little boy shook his head. "Who takes care of you?" The little boy didn't say anything. Amelia sighed. "Are you hungry?" The little boy paused and nodded. Amelia stood up and extended her hand. "Come with me." The little boy looked up at her and hesitated. "It's okay, let's get you something to eat."

The little boy took her hand and Amelia walked him down the street. A deli was open down the street. She took him inside. "What do you want to eat?" The little boy looked at the menu and shrugged.

Amelia ordered him a turkey sandwich and they sat down at a table. "Dig in." The little boy immediately began eating the sandwich. Amelia could tell he hadn't had a decent meal in a while.

Inside the deli, she could see him much better. He wore a dirty cap and his clothes were all dirty and threadbare, except his jacket. It looked new. Amelia looked at it, running her fingers over the fabric. It was exactly like the jackets she'd sent over to Brooklyn the month before.

"Are you a newsie?" The little boy nodded. "Do you sell with Spot Conlon?" The little boy nodded again. She exhaled. "Good, we're getting somewhere." She gave the little boy a smile.

The little boy gave her a toothy grin, his mouth full of turkey. Amelia chuckled. "What's your name?"

"Pint."

Amelia mock gasped. "He talks!"

Pint giggled and took a drink of water. "What's your name?"

"My name is Amelia. If you're with Spot, then why are you all the way over here?"

"There is a poker game over here. We were goin' from Tibby's to the lodging house, but I got lost."

"How? Weren't you with the other boys?"

Pint looked down, ashamed.

"It's okay, you can tell me."

"I saw a puppy and followed it." Amelia couldn't help but grin. Pint looked back up. "Please don't tell Flint! He told me not to wander off!"

"Your secret is safe with me."

Pint soon cleaned his plate and downed the rest of his water.

"Want to go find the Brooklyn boys now?"

Pint nodded.

Amelia stood up once more and Pint took her hand. "Don't you worry; I know just where to find them."

* * *

A few blocks later, they came upon the newsboys lodging house. "Here you are," she grinned. Pint hugged her legs. "You're welcome," she chuckled. Pint didn't move. "Go on now, Spot and the others will be right in there." Pint took her hand and pulled her towards the door. "No, sweetie, I'm not going in there." Pint gave her such a puppy-dog look she couldn't deny him. "Okay." She sighed. She steeled herself for what might come.

They walked up the steps and opened the lodging house door.

The inside of the lodging house was warm and happy. Boys hung around, many playing poker, some just talking. Seeing all the familiar faces was good for the soul. Amelia hadn't realized how much she missed everybody until she saw them just now.

Someone finally noticed her standing there.

"What are you doing here?" Flint asked. The entire lodging house looked over.

"Little Pint here was sitting on a street corner, lost as could be," said Amelia. "He told me where to find you."

Flint laughed. "You're such a liar. Pint doesn't talk."

Amelia shrugged. "He talked to me."

Flint's smile faded. "He did not."

"Did too."

They stared each other down for a few moments.

"Well, I need to be going." She looked down at Pint. "You're gonna be okay now, right?"

Pint buried himself in her skirt, not letting go of her hand. "What's the matter? You scared of Flint?"

Pint hesitated, and then nodded.

"Well, trust me, you don't need to be. His bark is worse than his bite. And if you have any problems with him, you can come straight to me."

Flint scoffed and rolled his eyes.

The door to the lodging house burst open and Spot walked in.

"Flint, I'm gonna kill you," Spot said. "We can't find Pint anywhere."

Flint cleared his throat and jerked his head toward Amelia and Pint.

"Amelia," Spot said, stunned.

"Found something you might be looking for," said Amelia. She reached behind her and pulled Pint out from behind here.

"Pint! There you are! Where you been?"

Pint looked from Spot to Flint to Amelia. He hid behind Amelia once more.

"He got lost when you guys came over from Brooklyn," said Amelia. She looked at Flint. "He's a little guy, you should keep a better eye on him."

"Well, thanks for bringin' him back," said Spot.

Pint walked over and yanked on Spot's hand. Spot got down on a knee and Pint whispered something in his ear. Spot looked at him. "You can ask her." He shrugged.

Pint walked back over to Amelia and she squatted down. Pint cupped his hands around her ear and whispered something.

"My God, why can't the kid just talk?" Flint burst out.

"Shut up, Flint!" Spot and Amelia said at the same time. They shared a look before Pint finished whispering in Amelia's ear.

Amelia smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Pint, I can't. I wish I could, but I can't."

He whispered something else.

"I promise." She nodded. "I'll see you later, okay?" She patted Pint on the head. Pint wrapped his arms around her and held on. "I have to go now. You need to let go."

"Come on, Pint." Spot pulled him off Amelia.

Amelia stood up once more. "Well, I need to be getting back," said Amelia.

"I'll walk you," said Spot.

"No." Amelia shook her head. "It's okay, really."

"Amelia, it's late. I'm not letting you walk all the way back to the World building by yourself."

* * *

Amelia walked down the street with Pint holding onto her hand. Spot walked beside her.

"How'd you know I was at the World Building?" Amelia asked.

"We saw you get out of a carriage on our way to the lodging house," said Spot.

Amelia nodded. "So, everything okay with you boys?" Amelia asked.

Spot nodded. "We're doin' fine."

"Do you need anything?"

"It's not your job to take care of us, Amelia. We're fine."

"I know, I just…I care about you guys."

Spot sighed. "You gotta make up your mind, Wakefield."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you want us in your life or not? You want to send us all this stuff, but if I show up, you want nothing to do with me."

"It's complicated," she said as they rounded the corner in front of the World building.

"Amelia!" they heard from across the street.

"Oh no. I have to go." Amelia tried to let go of Pint's hand, but he wouldn't let go of her. "Please, Pint, I need to go."

"What are you doing?" Glenn marched across the street.

"Hello, darling," Amelia put on her sweet voice. "I was just…um…"

"Yes, I can imagine what you were doing," he said.

Amelia frowned at him. "What?"

"Come on." Glen grabbed a hold of her elbow.

"Ow, Glenn…"

"Sir, please, she was just helpin' me find my, uh, brother," said Spot, putting his arm around Pint and pulling him to his side, making Pint let go of Amelia.

"Don't talk to me, you filth," Glenn said. A group of Brooklyn boys rounded the corner, on their way home.

"There a problem?" Ice asked, walking up to the group with the rest of the boys.

"Nothing that concerns you," said Glenn, still gripping Amelia's elbow hard.

"Glenn, please let go," said Amelia, quietly. "You're hurting me."

"Let go of her," said Spot, stepping forward.

"This is between me and my wife, if you don't mind," Glenn said, and then turned to Amelia. "Is this the filth you're always sending clothes, food, and doctors to? Wasting my money on their lodging house repairs?"

"Glenn, please."

"Which of them were you with when you met me? Only sluts slum it with the lowest classes."

"You don't talk to her like that," said Spot, stepping forward more. Flint held him back.

Amelia winced, trying to get out of his grasp, but the harder she tried the harder he gripped. He dragged her across the street and into the carriage.

The boys could do nothing but watch as Glenn berated Amelia in the carriage and she rubbed her elbow where he'd hurt her. They watched the carriage go down the street. Pint broke away from Spot and chased the carriage. Ice ran and caught Pint before he was able to go too far. The boys watched the carriage roll down the street. They were silent for a few minutes.

"You say the word, Spot," said Mikey. "We'll take care of the rest."

Spot sighed, staring in the direction, long after the carriage had disappeared. "Anything we do will just make it worse for her."


	35. Chapter 35

_March 1902_

"Mrs. Vanderbilt?" said Lily, knocking on Amelia's bedroom door. "Mrs. Vanderbilt, there are two policemen here to talk to you."

"What?" asked Amelia, sleepily. She pulled on her robe and pinned back her hair. She looked at the clock in her room. "At this hour? What could they want?" The sun had barely peeked over the Manhattan skyline outside Amelia's window.

"He said it's urgent," said Lily.

"I'll be right down," said Amelia. She went into her closet and put on a decent dress to receive the policeman in. She walked down the stairs and two policemen were standing in the parlor with Lily. "Good morning, officers."

"Good morning, Mrs. Vanderbilt," said one of the officers.

"What can I do for you? I'm sorry, my husband must have left early for work this morning," she said.

"Actually, we've come to talk to you about your husband," said the officer. He cleared his throat and glanced at Lily.

"She's staying," said Amelia.

"I'm sorry to tell you like this, but Mr. Vanderbilt was found dead this morning." Amelia was sure her heart stopped. "But we are going to need you to come down to the morgue with us to make a positive identification."

"Dead? How?" she asked, clutching the arm of the sofa.

The officers shared a look. "He was shot," said the other officer. "He was found shot dead in a hotel room at the Algonquin residential hotel."

"The Algonquin? He didn't have an apartment there," said Amelia.

"Yes, ma'am, he did," said the officer. "He was found with a woman there, who was also shot dead. From their…state, we imagine they had been involved in…intimate activities."

Amelia felt dizzy, and put her head in her hand, which was leaning on the arm of the sofa.

"Mrs. Vanderbilt?" Lily asked, walking over and putting her arm around Amelia. "Why don't you sit down?"

"Do you know who did it?" Amelia asked, sitting down.

"We suspect it was the woman's husband," he said. "The manager of the hotel saw him go up to the room shortly before gun shots were heard. He was later seen fleeing via the fire escape."

Amelia put her head in her hands. Her mind was swimming. She was a widow. It was going to be in the papers. All of her friends would be the first to know, yelling the headlines throughout the streets, selling the news to her other, rich friends. There was going to be a trial.

"Mrs. Vanderbilt?" said one of the officer. "Would you mind coming with us? To the morgue?"

"Yes, of course," said Amelia, standing up. "Just let me dress. Come on, Lily."

After identifying the body at the morgue downtown, Amelia walked through downtown with Lily. Her husband was dead. She felt the foundation on which she'd built her life begin to shake.

"I still can't believe it," said Amelia, shaking her head.

"Can I get you anything?" Lily asked.

"I don't even know," said Amelia. "I feel so scared but numb right now. I should feel…sad; I should feel grief. But I feel nothing."

"You're in shock," said Lily, putting her arm around Amelia.

"What's going to happen now?"

"Well, like the police said, they have the guy, so they're preparing for the trial," said Lily. "Before we left, I spoke to Alfred, so he is contacting your in-laws, and they will help plan the funeral. You're the widow, Amelia. No one is expecting anything from you."

Amelia walked along in silence. Lily looped her arm through Amelia's.

"Is it terrible that on the way to the morgue, I felt a small sense of relief?" Amelia asked. "Does that make me a terrible wife? A bad person?"

Lily shook her head. "No. Not after what he put you through."

Amelia sighed. "I guess."

"You are not a bad person, Amelia. You've made some choices you regret, but you tried your best to make it right."

"For all the good it did me."

"It did a lot of good for the newsies," said Lily. "Every winter, we lose so many…sickness, hunger…this year we didn't lose anyone." Lily stopped and faced Amelia. "Race got pneumonia this winter. If you hadn't sent the doctor down…I don't know what would've happened. Boxer and Ice got it bad in Brooklyn too. Whether they like it or not, they owe you their lives. You made a difference, Amelia. It did a lot of good."

Amelia pulled Lily into a hug. "Thank you." She stepped back. "We should get back. I'm sure Mother Vanderbilt is already at the house."

"It's all gonna be okay," Lily patted her arm as they walked back to the house.


	36. Chapter 36

_March 1902_

 **Vanderbilt and Mistress Shot Dead in Love Nest**

Glenn Vanderbilt's picture was plastered over every newspaper in New York City. Amelia woke up that morning to the sounds of newsies screaming her humiliation over the entire city. It felt like they were screaming right into her ear. And since when did the morning sun shine so bright? She rolled over and pulled the pillow over her head.

She wasn't sure if she'd fallen back asleep, or had just lain, comatose, staring at the back of her door for an hour, when there was a knock at her door.

"Amelia?" Lily's voice came from the other side. She opened the door and poked her head in. "You awake?"

"I don't know," said Amelia.

"There's someone here to see you," said Lily.

"I don't want to see anyone," she mumbled, turning over.

"I think you do," said Lily, opening the door wider.

Amelia heard the door close and the Spot's voice. "Geez, Wakefield, you kill this whole bottle?" Spot asked, picking up the empty bourbon bottle on her nightstand.

Amelia frowned and turned back over.

"Shouldn't you be out selling?" she grumbled, sitting up. "I heard the headline is hot. You could probably make five bucks on a day like today."

Spot smelled the alcohol still on her breath. Spot shook his head. "I'm not sellin' today," he said.

Amelia crawled out of bed and put her robe on. She sat down at her vanity, putting her head in her hand. "Why not?" she asked.

Spot shrugged. "I dunno," he said, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag. "Just…doesn't feel right." He held out the cigarette to her.

She reached over and took it. "You never cease to surprise me," she said.

"How you holdin' up?" he asked, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"It doesn't hurt as much this morning," she said. "Mostly because my head has a monopoly on the pain right now."

"I can imagine," Spot said.

Amelia sniffed. "Why do they always run off with another woman?" she asked. "First Rock, now Glenn…am I that bad?"

"I never ran off," said Spot, kneeling next to her.

Amelia looked at him. "You're right," she said softly. Spot rubbed circles on her back. "Why'd you come back?"

"You know why," said Spot.

"Even after all that I did to you?" asked Amelia. Spot nodded. "I don't deserve it."

"Everything ain't only about you, ya know," Spot smirked.

Amelia sighed. "I'm a widow," she said. "I'm not even 21 and I'm a widow."


	37. Chapter 37

_March 1902_

"Nothing? What do you mean nothing?" Amelia asked, grabbing for the will.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Vanderbilt," said the lawyer.

"Could it be an oversight?" asked Amelia.

"He was very insistent about his," said the lawyer.

"Why? We were married. Why did he change his will this soon? Did he think he was in any danger?"

The lawyer was hesitant. "He did receive threats and was concerned."

"And if something happened to him, he didn't want me to get anything?"

The lawyer swallowed. "He kept getting threatened by streetkids."

Amelia closed her eyes, realizing. She sighed. "So, he really left me nothing."

"That is correct. The money and property goes back to his family. I'm very sorry. If you'd like, I can talk to the family. Due to the nature of his death, they may be willing to provide you some compensation."

"Yeah right." Amelia sighed. "And what about this upcoming trial of the murderer? Do I have to show up?"

"That is up to you, Mrs. Vanderbilt. Though it might look…odd should the widow of the deceased not show up to his murderer's trial."

Amelia sighed and stood up. "Thank you."

The lawyer stood and extended his hand. "I'm very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Vanderbilt. Should you or your family ever need my services, please don't hesitate to call on me." He handed her his card.

Amelia took it and walked out of the law office.

* * *

Amelia walked around downtown, until she came upon Tibby's. Through the windows, she could see the newsies talking and laughing. They were happy. They had nothing but each other, and they were happy. She wanted so bad to walk in and join them, but was terrified of being thrown out.

"Amelia?" said a familiar voice behind her.

Amelia turned around. "Hi, Jack," she said.

"Long time, no see," he said, smiling. "Are ya goin' in to see everybody?"

"Oh, I don't think so," said Amelia, shaking her head. "I really ought to be off home."

"Ah, come on," said Jack. "Just come say hi to everyone. I know Baby would kill me if I let you go without getting you in to say hi to her. "

Amelia smiled at him. "Okay. For you."

Jack smiled opened the door for her. A hush fell over the restaurant as she entered. Amelia stood there with Jack, suffering through an awkward silence. No one was sure how to react.

"Amelia!" Specs waved from his table. "Over here – we got a seat for you."

Amelia gave him a grateful smile and she walked over, sitting between Specs and Maggie, who had Sofie on her lap. Skittery, Penny, and Baby were also at the table, and Jack joined them.

"It's good to see you, Amelia," Penny smiled.

"Thanks," said Amelia with a small smile. "It's really good to see you all too." She looked at each person at the table in turn.

"You okay?" Specs asked, putting his hand on her arm.

Amelia looked down and nodded. "I will be."

Lily walked into the restaurant.

"What are you doin' here?" Race grinned.

Lily gave him a kiss. "I'll explain in a bit. Amelia?" Amelia looked up and Lily gestured for her to come over.

Amelia stood up and walked off to the side with Lily. "What is it?"

"I wanted to warn you," said Lily. "No one will be there when you get home tonight. All the staff have been taken to the Long Island house."

"That was fast." Amelia frowned.

"I overheard Mrs. Vanderbilt – your mother in law – talking to the staff about being glad to be rid of you. She was going on and on about the family's money being wasted on poor kids."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Of course she was. What about you?"

She shook her head. "I quit. I can't go to Long Island. Race and the girls are here," she said. "I'll probably sell papes again. But I wanted to let you know, so you're not surprised when you get home."

Amelia nodded. "Thanks."


	38. Chapter 38

_March 1902_

Amelia wandered through the house. None of it belonged to her. None of it had ever belonged to her. She'd moved into the house almost two years ago with nothing but her clothes. An open suitcase lay on the chaise in her closet. Amelia had gathered her plainest clothes and packed them.

There was a knock on the front door. Amelia walked through the empty house to the foyer and opened the door.

Spot was on the other side of the door. "Hey."

"Hi," Amelia gave him a small smile. "Come on in."

Spot walked inside. "You all right?"

Amelia shrugged. "About as good as can be expected." She led him into the parlor where they sat on the sofa. "I went to the lawyer yesterday. Glenn left me nothing."

"What?" asked Spot.

She nodded. "He changed his will after I told him about you and me, and then apparently some street kids starting threatening him. So much he thought his life was in danger."

Spot sighed. "Yeah, the boys were a little riled up after that scene Glenn made in the street."

"They hate me."

"Nah." Spot shook his head. "Brooklyn's reputation is nastier than we really are. We're the toughest bunch of newsies because we stick together. No one messes with us because they know if they mess with one of us, they're messin' with all of us. But we ain't heartless. This winter was the hardest we've had in a long time. Half the boys only survived because they were fed, warm, and got the medicine they needed. The boys saw what happened outside the World Building. They know what you had to endure to help them. Anyone that makes a sacrifice like that to help Brooklyn is one of us."

Amelia gave a small smile. She was quiet for a moment. "I'll take being part of Brooklyn over being a Vanderbilt any day."

Spot grinned and put his hand on hers. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. The unspoken question hung in the air – would she become part of Brooklyn again?

Tears began to form in Amelia's eyes. One blink and they were streaming down her cheeks.

"What's wrong?" Spot asked.

"I just don't know what to do. Everything is a mess. No matter what I do, it's the wrong thing to do. There is no right answer from here on out."

"That's good, isn't it, though? For the first time, you can do what you want. That's the one right answer."

Amelia closed her eyes, giving in to the sobs she'd been holding back. Spot put his arm around her and pulled her close. Amelia rested her head on his shoulder, silently sobbing. Despite the turmoil, she felt surprisingly comfortable and safe in Spot's arms – like everything was going to be okay. It was in that minute she knew the right answer.

She sat back, wiping the tears off her cheeks. "There's so much to do…the funeral, the trial…my parents are going to come any day to collect me and all my things."

"Are we back at square one now? You gonna flounce around in your dresses and corsets, acting like an idiot again? Is your pop already on the look out for someone else for you to marry?" He frowned and stood up, walking to the window.

Amelia watched him, frowning. "There's only one man I'll ever agree to marry."

Spot turned and looked at her. "Really?" he asked.

Amelia nodded. "I'm not giving you up again."

Spot walked over to her. "You're sure? Because when you left last time…I can't go through that again. I need to know you're going to stand by me this time."

"Honestly? Being poor scares me. Even when my family was bankrupt, we still had certain comforts. But if I walk out that door with you, I've got nothing. And that terrifies me."

Spot pulled her up and put his arms around her waist. "Amelia, being poor isn't easy, I'll give you that. You're not going to have nice clothes, you're not going to have your jewels, you won't have your own room, and you're going to have to work. It's going to be hard. But you won't have nothing. You'll have your friends, you'll have Brooklyn, and you'll have me. If you walk out that door with me, I promise, I will always be by your side."

"Worst. Proposal. Ever," Amelia joked.

Spot smirked. "It wasn't a proposal. Besides, like you said, 'Spot Conlon' isn't a name that goes on a marriage license."

Amelia grinned. "I wouldn't care what name was on the license, so long as it was yours."

"Be careful," Spot leaned down and kissed her. "One of these days I may decide to make an honest woman out of you."

"I dare you." Amelia smirked. "I love you, Conlon."

Spot leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I love you too," he whispered in her ear.

Amelia smiled. "Finally got you to say it."

* * *

 _Author's Note: Penny, Baby, Maggie, and Amelia will return in the last installment,_ "No More Lies."


End file.
